Harry No 5 and the Goblet of Fire
by Silverfox1
Summary: Harry No 5 and his friends enter their fourth year at Hogwarts.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Here's Harry ... or to be exact here's Frank the gardener for the moment. Harry will back soon, though.

A/N: Here's Harry ... or to be exact here's Frank the gardener for the moment. Harry will back soon, though.

Harry No. 5 and the Goblet of Fire

Chapter 1: The Riddle House

The Riddle house was a leftover from a long ago very different time, a manor house intended for a single family and their servants. It is therefore understandable that it hadn't been inhabited for a long time, though somebody apparently still owned it as there still was a single servant left to tend the garden and it hadn't been torn down yet.

Even Frank, the old gardener, himself didn't know who the owner was, though. He received his monthly pay punctually nevertheless and that was all he felt he needed to know.

The last owners that he had ever actually met had been Mr. and Mrs. Riddle, very rich owners of a company that produced uniforms, and their son Master Tom who had been supposed to inherit the company someday. Mrs. Riddle had been the only one of the three that had ever worked as far as Frank knew. At least she had gone to town to check on the company once a week. The men had only ever stayed at the manor ordering the servants about and doing nothing. It would have been scandalous if they hadn't been rich.

And then one day all three Riddles had been found dead in the house. Frank had been arrested on suspicion of having murdered them, but been released again once it had been determined that there was no proof that the Riddles had been murdered at all.

Frank had returned to the house and his fellow servants to work for the heirs, if they wanted him, but apparently they were too busy working and never showed up. The servants had soon grown bored of having nothing much to do and moved on to other jobs. Their positions had been left vacant, but still Frank's wages had kept coming and nobody had even suggested that he should leave.

Not that he hadn't tried just as much as the rest of them at the time. But he supposed the fact that he had been arrested on suspicion of murder had been too much against him. Nobody had hired him and he hadn't wanted to go to an unemployment camp. It had to be better to stay at the old manor house even if he was all alone there.

By now Frank was of course old enough to move into a retirement home instead, but he wasn't quite sure whether he'd like that either. He had been living entirely alone for about fifty years now. He was used to it. Somehow he didn't think he'd take well to being herded about by nurses together with a lot of other old people.

Of course he'd have to make up his mind and go sometime soon. He was getting a little slower every year. There would come a day when he could no longer take care of himself and there was nobody here to help him.

And then one night there were lights in the old house and Frank went inside to find out what was going on and found a horrible monster that could talk with snakes and was plotting murder.

Unfortunately his old body was no longer fast and agile enough to make it back outside and alert the police.

On the other hand, Frank thought as the monster pointed its deadly stick at him, maybe it was for the best that he would be spared the home after all. He only hoped that the plot to kill that poor Harry Potter whoever he might be would fail even though Frank could do nothing to stop it.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Chapter 2: The Scar

Harry woke up with a scream. He was safe in his dormitory with his fellow soon to be fourth-years sitting up in their beds all around him.

"Sorry guys," he said rubbing the aching scar on his forehead. "I just had a nightmare."

"Aww Harry! I was having such a nice dream!" Seamus complained.

"I'd much rather have had a nice dream, too," Harry pointed out.

"You can't really blame Harry," Neville told Seamus. "I bet you'd have nightmares, too, if you'd almost been kissed by a dementor. I know I would."

Harry smiled at Neville thankfully.

"I'm not having nightmares," Ron pointed out proudly.

"Yeah, but you didn't even see the dementors," Dean reminded him. "You were unconscious What an achievement!"

"Having my leg broken wasn't fun either," Ron snapped.

"Well, I've never heard of anybody having nightmares from breaking his leg," Neville said. "But I think a lot of people have ones of being kissed by dementors. And most of them without ever having seen one up close."

"It wasn't a nightmare of being kissed by a dementor, though," Harry admitted.

"Oh?" made Dean. "Then what was it about?"

"I don't know. I can't remember what exactly happened, but there was no dementor in it. Peter Pettigrew was and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. And an old Muggle man. I think they were going to kill him and that's when I screamed."

"Does your scar hurt?" Neville asked."You've been rubbing it the whole time."

Harry nodded.

"It does that sometimes," he explained. "I thought it was when I'm in danger, but maybe it's just when I'm scared."

"Maybe you'd better tell Professor McGonagall in the morning," Dean said. "Dreams can be visions. Interpreting them is part of Divination."

"Then maybe it's better to tell Professor Trellawney," Neville suggested. "I don't think Professor McGonagall even took Divination. She doesn't seem to like it at all."

"Professor Trellawney is an old fraud," Ron said dismissively. "I think you'd better go directly to Professor Dumbledore."

Harry frowned. Run to the headmaster like a baby at the nursery institute because he'd had a bad dream and his scar was hurting a little? No way!

"No," he said determinedly. "It was just a bad dream because Peter Pettigrew got away and Professor Trellawney predicted that he'd rejoin You-Know-Who. I was imagining that. It wasn't a vision."

Besides his scar had stopped hurting already. Harry lay back down and went back to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: No Weasley parents to arrange a trip to the World Cup, so how do I get Harry there?

Chapter 3: The Invitation

"We have a very special surprise for you this year," headmaster Albus Dumbledore announced at dinner in the Great Hall.

The noise of happily chattering students died away immediately.

Harry looked up at the head table with equal excitement and apprehension. Sure the way Professor Dumbledore had said it made it clear that he considered it good news that would be welcomed by the students, but the only surprise Harry could think of right now was another Hogsmeade trip and he wasn't allowed to go on those.

"As you are probably all aware the Quidditch World Cup Finals will be hosted by England this year," the headmaster continued.

Harry nodded. Of course he was aware. Oliver who had been the Gryffindor Quidditch team captain had been talking of little else for days, and even Harry, young as he was, knew how stupid that was. Oliver would sit his NEWTs the next day and then he'd be off to the wizarding unemployment camp, because his time at Hogwarts Secondary Institute was over and he hadn't arranged for a place of employment, yet. Of course that was okay if one was waiting for one's NEWTs results before sending off one's job applications, but to wait just so one would be free to go see a Quidditch match, that was awfully lazy.

Even though Harry liked Oliver a lot he thought that he deserved to be stuck in the camp for a very long time.

"In honour of that event the next school year will start two days late," the headmaster announced. "So that we can all go there together and cheer on Ireland."

He went on to say more, probably about how they would make up for the two lost days of school-work and what would be done with the transferees, both coming in and going out, but it was all drowned out by the children's cheers and excited chatter.

For a moment Harry too felt a rush of wild delight at the prospect and screamed at the top of his lungs. Just imagine getting to see a real Quidditch match with adult international level players!

Being on the Quidditch team himself Harry had a lot more reason to to look forward to this excursion than most of his classmates who never got to do more than watch. Besides they'd all gone to Hogsmeade several times in the past year while Harry had missed out on most of those trips and only joined the two he had gone on in secret. Now he'd finally get to go on an excursion off the institute grounds officially!

Or would he? Harry's face fell at the realisation that if his Aunt and Uncle, or probably his secretly still alive parents, hadn't allowed him to leave the grounds for a Hogsmeade trip, they probably wouldn't for the Quidditch World Cup either.

All through the meal he poked listlessly at his food and let the excited conversations of his fellow Gryffindors wash over him trying not to get his hopes up. Surely, if he was completely convinced that he wouldn't be allowed to go it wouldn't hurt when he was told that he wasn't, right? And it would be a delightful surprise if he was told that he could come along after all.

Which would not happen of course. He would not even think about the possibility. He would simply assume that he was not going.

As soon as dinner was over and people started to rush out Harry got up and without even pausing to tell Ron and Hermione what he was up to fought his way through to where Professor McGonagall was sitting at the head table.

He had to wait, though. Percy, another seventh year about to sit his NEWTs had been faster than him.

"As for the leaving feast," the Professor was telling Percy. "It is a real pity, but getting a job at the ministry is of course much more important than a single feast and postponing starting work might well cost you the position."

"That's alright," Percy said just a touch sadly. "I've had six leaving feasts anyway. That doesn't matter all that much. But what about the game? The World Cup in England is probably a once in a lifetime event."

The Professor shook her head sadly. "I'm afraid I can't tell you. The ministry is sure to arrange an excursion for its employees as well and as you are going to be working in the department for international cooperation it might be you'll even be expected to go. Don't get too excited, though. Some employees will have to stay behind and keep the ministry running. It can't be closed down for a day like a school can. It seems quite likely that the newest employees who have not earned any rewards yet will be the last ones whose wishes will be considered in the matter."

Percy nodded. "Of course I understand that. And I'd better get back to studying. It'll all be in vain if I don't manage to get the required NEWTs after all.

Professor McGonagall nodded at him and got up to leave.

"Professor McGonagall?" Harry dashed after her. "Professor McGonagall!"

The Professor stopped and turned around. "Harry? Is there a problem?"

"Er, no Professor," Harry admitted feeling suddenly ashamed for bothering her with such an unimportant matter. "I just wanted to ask whether I've got permission to go to the Quidditch game?"

"Why, of course you do," Professor McGonagall said. "Whatever made you think you didn't?"

"Well, because, you know, I don't have permission to go to Hogsmeade," Harry admitted.

Professor McGonagall smiled. "Ah right, you wouldn't know that yet, but actually you do. The Aurors are pretty sure that Peter Pettigrew has left the country, you see, and so your parents have recently signed the permission slip after all."

Harry beamed. He'd get to go to the game! And to Hogsmeade too from now on! It was as if his birthday had come a day early.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: No trip to the Burrow of course, so let's take this opportunity to check up on the Dursleys.

Chapter 4: Back to the Burrow

Petunia Dursley-Evans was prepared for the events of the day this time. Her husband Vernon had once again spread the tale that she was staying in bed to sleep off a headache. She was a little worried that people would eventually notice that this always happened on the same day of the year, but it was only the second time now and perhaps she could eventually confide in some gossiping co-worker that yesterday was some anniversary on which she tended to over-indulge in alcohol. Her wedding day perhaps.

But no, that date was in her personnel file and round anniversaries tended to be officially noticed by the company. It might be better to almost truthfully declare it to be her nephew's birthday, but then people would wonder why she celebrated that more wildly than that of her own son Dudley. She could pretend that it was Dudley's birthday, but then people would probably inquire after his birthday letter.

It actually took her an hour of rolling around in bed trying to get back to sleep and thinking over the problem before Petunia thought of the obvious solution: The anniversary of her sister and brother in law's tragic death in a horrible working accident!

Petunia had liked having a sister. It wouldn't be hard to convince people that they had been very close, almost like best friends and that her death had come as a terrible shock. Lily had been the younger sister, so nobody would be surprised if Petunia said she'd always taken it for granted that she would outlive her.

Seeing that it was almost noon Petunia decided to celebrate her brilliant solution by getting up.

She took an extra long, luxurious shower, washed her hair, arranged it in the most elaborate style she could think of, did her make-up, watched the news channel for an hour, ate the muffins Vernon had so thoughtfully provided for her lunch and then turned on the computer to surf the news-sites.

At five pm she began to get worried. Where was that stupid owl? Surely the bird could not have gotten lost on the company premises again? If somebody other than her or Vernon found and opened Harry's birthday letter they'd be in terrible trouble!

Petunia wasn't quite sure what would happen, but she knew that it was Vernon's biggest fear that people at the company might find out that their nephew was in an institute for children with magical abilities. Surely that meant that the consequences would be terrible.

Petunia got up and went to the window to look for the owl or any signs of a commotion somewhere nearby.

She couldn't see either, but then the flat she shared with Vernon was at the back of the residential block and didn't allow her a view of the main company building where the owl had caused such a catastrophe two years ago.

Since she was supposed to be staying in bed she couldn't go outside and check. She might be seen.

In fact, it was probably better not to be seen at the window either, so Petunia took to pacing the small flat instead.

What could have happened to the bird? It had always arrived much earlier than this in the past.

Could it have died on the way? And if so what would become of the letter? Would somebody pick it up and mail it even though it wasn't franked? Would it still be delivered?

Petunia would gladly have paid the postage when it arrived, but of course the Royal Mail had no way of knowing that.

And what if some stranger opened it? Would that have terrible consequences?

Of course if someone that knew nothing of her or Harry opened it they would probably assume it was some kind of joke or some holovid prop. They'd probably throw it away without a second thought. Yes, that was what would most likely happen. She'd lose the chance to see how her nephew had grown and read up on his development, but there would be no terrible consequences. Nobody would even know ... but what if it happened to be found by someone who knew her after all?

By the time Vernon came home a little after 8 pm Petunia had worked herself into quite a state which only served to increase his anger over the lost letter.

"Those thoughtless idiots!" he roared. "To send their mail by such unreliable means as animals when they want it to remain secret! Of course this had to happen! Why I'll, I'll ... Oh quit sobbing you pathetic woman! This is all your fault! If you hadn't had to know your good for nothing sis..."

He might well have scolded her into such a nervous state that she really would have been sick and had to see the doctor the next morning - And what would she have told him? - if the owl hadn't chosen to arrive in the midst of the tirade, all casual and unapologetic, and held out her claw to Petunia as if she had done nothing wrong at all.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: The Weasley twins have no Dudley to test their toffees on, but after all the institute is full of other children ..

Chapter 5: Weasley's Wizard Wheezes

For the very first time since his transfer to Hogwarts secondary institute Harry had an almost completely normal birthday. It still wasn't a normal school day of course, since it was the exam day for the seventh years, but at least it wasn't a feast day and so he'd get his cake and presents in the evening like everybody else did.

At first Harry was very pleased with that but after a few hours of wandering around the grounds looking for something to do and thinking longingly of the birthday presents he didn't have yet he began to realise that it was awfully boring to have one's birthday party in the evening if one didn't have classes to distract one until then.

"We could play gobstones," Draco suggested.

"Or chess," Ron proposed.

"Or Quidditch," Vincent said. "You still haven't let us try your Firebolt."

"Or play with our stuffed toys," Gregory added.

"Don't you think we're a little too old to play with toys," Hermione asked. "We ought to be fourth years the day after tomorrow."

Harry couldn't really see what being a fourth year had to do with toys but he didn't feel like doing any of those things anyway. They'd done them hundreds of times before. He wanted to do something new.

"In that case," Frederick his fellow Quiddich team member who had apparently overheard their conversation suggested. "You can help us with some product testing."

"We want to open a joke shop when we leave the institute," hid friend and twin George explained holding out a toffee to Gregory. "We've been producing jokes all year, but it's really hard to test them properly with only the two of us as test subjects."

"Thank you," Gregory said taking the toffee.

"And most of your fellow Gryffindors," Hermione snapped. "Don't eat that Gregory, it's probably a nasty trick that doesn't even work properly yet."

But it was too late. Gregory had already stuffed the treat into his mouth and was now gagging and gasping for air as his tongue swelled to monstrous proportions.

"Gregory!" Vincent screamed desperately as he had no idea how he might help his friend.

"You bastards!" Draco yelled. "We should have known not to trust treacherous Gryffindors!"

"See," shrilled Hermione. "Now you are giving our house a bad name on top of everything else!"

"Undo it!" Harry urged George.

But it was Frederick who cast a charm on Gregory. "Here, that'll shrink it right back to size. No need to make such a fuss. Brother dear, I do believe the ton tongue toffees are a full success."

Except that the spell only shrank Gregory's teeth which did nothing to help his breathing.

"Do something!" Hermione shouted hysterically. "He's suffocating!"

George repeated the spell Frederick had already cast, but this time it had no effect at all.

"I don't understand," he gasped. "It's supposed to fix it. I don't know why it isn't working."

"Well, then try something else," Ron demanded, but nobody knew what.

"Madam Pomfrey," Draco shouted finally. "We have to get him to the hospital wing. Hurry!"

And so a few minutes later the whole group rushed into the hospital wing, some of them screaming for Madam Pomfrey and others sobbing. The nurse came running out of her office in alarm.

"What's happened? Another flying accident? Fell down the stairs again?" she demanded. "Which one of you is hurt?"

Draco pushed the patient forward.

"Gregory," he said.

"He ate a toffee they gave him," Hermione added furiously pointing at George and Frederick.

"It was just a little prank. Something went wrong with the counter-spell," George defended himself.

"What was in or on that candy?" the nurse demanded even though she already had her wand out and was successfully shrinking Gregory's tongue.

"That's a business secret," Frederick protested.

That however was a mistake. Madam Pomfrey ordered the twins to sit down and wait until she had time to "deal" with them, put Gregory to bed and sent the rest of the third years back to their common rooms.

"I don't think you need to worry about your friend any longer," she told them in a gentler tone. "His tongue is perfectly normal again. I just want to keep him here a little longer to make sure it really doesn't start up again."

When Harry and his friends returned to their common room after the birthday party that evening they found quite a hubbub there however.

"Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall are searching the fifth years' dorm," Ginevra told them excitedly. "They're confiscating all the twins' joke supplies."

"They say that they're dangerous," her year-mate Colin added. "Can you imagine it? Those two have been making dangerous stuff all year right under the eyes of the staff and nobody even noticed!"

"You should start an institute newspaper, Colin," Ron suggested with a yawn. "And write an article about it. With pictures."

It had been a while since they had seen Colin with the camera that he'd treasured so much in his first year.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: And they're off on the World Cup excursion!

Chapter 6: The Portkey

The next day ought to have been the leaving feast day, but due to the excursion to the Quidditch World Cup that was postponed. Harry didn't mind this much as he had all his birthday gifts to show around and try out, but it certainly was bad luck for George and Frederick who spent most of the day moping and whining about their lost joke items.

"We spent six months on those toffees alone," George told Harry. "Did you have to betray us?"

"I didn't betray you," Harry returned annoyed at being given the blame for what Hermione and Draco had done.

"Gregory was suffocating," Hermione pointed out. "We had to take him to the hospital wing or he might have died."

"He's just a stinking Slytherin," Frederick complained. "And those jokes were our livelihood We wanted to open a joke shop."

"A fellow student's life is more important than some jokes," Percy said sharply over the angry protests of Harry and his friends. "And while I'm sure it was all a lot of fun and very educational to experiment with making such things, they are dangerous and opening your own shop is nothing but a silly dream. Such little start-ups never survive and you are much too young to be able to judge the market and produce things people will actually buy at a reasonable price. You should join the ministry like I am doing. One can have a really good career there and it's a guaranteed safe job."

"We don't want a career," George countered. "We just want to make jokes."

"Well, then you should apply to Zonko's joke factory," Percy said condescendingly. "They are probably always looking for people to work at their assembly lines."

But Frederick and George didn't want to do assembly line work either. Harry couldn't understand their ambitions at all. After all, what could be more productive than working in a factory? Maybe he would apply for a job at Zonko's when he finished school.

That evening after dinner Percy came to their dorm one last time, to say good-bye, actually hugged Ron for some reason and then went on to the fifth years' dorm to do the same to the twins. That was the last time they saw him. By the time they arrived at breakfast the next morning he was already gone.

Before the trip to the Quidditch game Professor McGonagall actually came to the common room to give them one final speech about going to places for adults and not bothering people.

She also reminded them to wear good shoes and then handed out Muggle uniforms so they wouldn't look too abnormal to any Muggles they might meet.

"They'll still find it odd that a whole institute should go on a camping excursion, though, so at least try not to draw any further attention."

Instead of the Hogwarts bus which could only transport a little more than a year's worth of students at a time, they took portkeys to the match.

Harry's year and the fourth years were given an ugly frayed old rope and told to all hold on tightly to it. That wasn't very appealing, but Harry knew better then to argue with Professor McGonagall's orders. He gritted his teeth and held on.

There was a sudden unpleasant jerk behind his navel and then he appeared to stand on ... something softer and a lot less even than the common room floor. Of course he only stood there for a moment before he tumbled to the floor and somebody else fell on top of him.

There was a lot of shrieking, flailing and then scolding before everybody was back on their feet.

"Children," Harry heard the ministry wizard that registered their arrival snort as they were marched away to clear the arrival point for the fifth and sixth years. The few remaining seventh years would apparate he'd heard Professor McGonagall say.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Will Ludo Bagman dare offer bets to the children under the eyes of their teachers?

Chapter 7: Bagman and Crouch

The Quiddich Cup camp-site was amazing. There were huge tents of all sorts everywhere, each sporting an advertisement for the company it belonged to. Harry kept turning his head left and right and tripping over things because there was so much to see.

The Hogwarts tent however was a plain white one set up next to a slightly smaller pale blue one that had an inscription in a weird language Harry couldn't identify.

"Beauxbattons institute from France," he heard somebody say. "I wonder what they are doing here. France isn't playing."

"Neither is Scotland," somebody else pointed out.

"But Ireland is," the first person returned. "Some of us are Irish."

"I probably am," Harry's dorm-mate Seamus commented. "Seamus is an Irish name."

He looked longingly at a row of green tents decorated in four-leaf-clovers. "I wonder whether my parents are over there."

But they didn't get to go and look at the decorations or any potential parents. They just stood waiting outside the Hogwarts tent until it was their turn to go inside and be shown their dorm. It was smaller than the one in the institute and they had sleeping bags instead of beds, but other than that it looked perfectly comfortable.

"You have half an hour to settle in," Professor Sinistra who was organising the arrival told them. "Then reassemble in the main hall for the trip to the souvenir stands."

Since none of them had brought much luggage they didn't need nearly that much time and soon started wandering around to see where everybody else was sleeping.

Harry and Ron slipped into the fifth year Gryffindors' dorm to see whether Frederick and George had cheered up yet and found them counting all their money into the hands of a strange wizard.

"Who's that?" Ron asked not very politely.

The man however didn't seem to mind. He turned around and beamed widely at them.

"Why, hello young wizards! I'm Ludo Bagman, head of the magical games and sports department of the ministry. I used to fly for the Wimbourne Wasps and even participated in a few World Cops myself, but of course that was before your time."

"What, really?" Ron asked his eyes lighting up with excitement.

"But what are you doing here?" Harry asked not a little confused. This wasn't the ministry tent after all.

"I am organising the whole event of course," Ludo Bagman announced.

"In the Hogwarts tent?" Harry still thought that this was very strange.

"Ah, of course not," Ludo Bagman laughed. "I am also organising a little betting pool. Would you like to put a few galleons on the outcome of the match?"

Harry and Ron started looking for their money pouches. It took them a little while to find them as Harry was no longer used to wearing Muggle trousers, and Ron had never worn any before in his life.

Just as Harry was finally pulling his out of his pocket Professor Hagrid stuck his head in the door behind them.

"Why Mr. Bagman!" the Care for Magical Creatures professor roared. "Don't you think the children are too young to bet?"

"Ah Hagrid," Ludo Bagman replied with a wide smile. "Just a few knuts for the experience. Surely there can be nothing wrong with that."

"I don't know," Professor Hagrid shook his head. "They're just children and Professor Dumbledore disapproves of betting, you know. He mightn't like it. Besides, Mr. Crouch is looking for you outside."

"Barty Crouch? I've been looking for him, too. Did he say what he wants me for?"

"I don't know. Something about the Bulgarian minister, I think."

Ludo Bagman left without taking Harry's money and then Hagrid turned to the boys sternly.

"Now don't you start developing bad habits. Betting money's just the same as throwing it out the window. Most of the time you get nothing in return. That's just not worth it. And you'll want this money to buy souvenirs with. If you want something really worthwhile, get yourselves good omnioculars to watch the game with."

At the moment Harry was disappointed, but when they got to the souvenir stands and bought their omnioculars, clover pins and a little toy Victor Krum and he saw the longing looks of the twins who were trailing after their group with empty hands, he realised that Hagrid had been right. Betting might be nice for the moment, but now he'd have something to remember the match by.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: No place in the minister's box for Harry and his friends, of course.

Chapter 8: The Quidditch World Cup

Not much later they were led into the stadium to take their seats. Those were of course rather bad since they were only children, but Harry was lucky enough to get one from which he could see almost all of the pitch. He took out his omnioculars to check whether they improved the view and found that he could actually see into the top box where Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of magic, sat next to some foreign looking wizards.

Mr. Bagman was there as well and behind him sat the unfriendly blond wizard that Harry had met during his second year and suspected was Mr. Malfoy, who had been one of the school governors back then.

And there, right next to Mr. Malfoy sat his house elf Dobby! But why was he covering his face with his hands?

He didn't get much time to wonder about it as the game was about to start. First the Bulgarian team mascots, the most beautiful women Harry had ever seen, danced.

There was quite a lot of shoving and screaming as the older male students all tried to rush onto the pitch to join in. A magical barrier stopped them however and the Professors soon re-established order among their charges, scolding and dragging the older students back into their seats as the Irish mascots followed up the Bulgarian women's dance with a shower of gold.

Once again the Professors had to scold as everybody tried to pick up as much gold as possible pushing, shoving and tearing it out of each other's hands.

"Why really!" Professor Flitwick squeaked. "And that in public! Aren't you ashamed of how that reflects on your institute?"

"It's not worth it," Professor Snape stated coldly. "Don't you even know that Leprechaun gold dissolves after a few hours?"

"Dissolves?" Harry gasped clutching his fistful of coins.

"Why of course," Hermione said as if everybody ought to know it. "Leprechaun gold is just for show. It dissolves into nothing."

"Oh."

Disappointed Harry and Ron let go of their haul and sat down again to see the actual match. That was truly impressive! Harry had never seen flying like this on the Hogwarts pitch and followed every move he could see with breathless delight. The end of the game was quite a sensation as the Bulgarian seeker Victor Krum caught the snitch, but the Irish team won anyway and well deservedly. The excellent combinations of their chasers had left no room for doubt which was the better team as far as Harry was concerned.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Things get a little chaotic, Harry loses Ron, but finds someone else.

Chapter 9: The Dark Mark

They returned to the Hogwarts tent where they were told to go straight to bed, but of course all they did there was discuss all the exciting things they had seen over and over again.

They could hear occasional shouting and singing from outside, but it wasn't until Oliver burst into their room looking pale and frightened that Harry realised that there was something wrong with the sounds.

"Hurry!" Oliver ordered. "Put on your shoes and line up with the rest. Don't stop for anything else. There are Death Eaters on the loose!"

"Death Eaters?" Ron gasped.

"Yes, and they're coming in our direction," Oliver confirmed. "We've got to get everybody into the woods before they arrive and set the tent on fire or something."

Harry and Ron walked out of the room side by side with Seamus and Dean right behind them and Neville following alone to pair up with the solo member of whatever unevenly numbered group they would encounter first, but there was no nice and proper two by two line waiting for them. Groups of students were rushing past towards the tent entrance without waiting for anyone to join them and sometimes not even in formation.

'Oliver must have meant to line up outside the tent,' Harry realised and followed the other groups' example. However the entrance wasn't wide enough to let everybody that was rushing out of the various corridors through at the same time and so even the groups that had formed neat lines soon disappeared into a disorderly mass that pressed together and shoved each other towards the door.

When Harry finally stumbled outside he realised that Ron was no longer beside him, nor could he catch sight of any of his other dorm-mates. He recognised Terry, a year-mate from Ravenclaw, and tried to get over there to line up with him instead, but then he realised that there was no line to be seen anywhere either. All there was was a huge mass of children heading towards the forest as the Death Eaters were probably coming closer and closer. He could no longer hear their singing over the shouts of the children, but he could see some life sized dolls - they surely couldn't be real people - levitating in the air, moving in their direction.

Heart pounding, Harry looked around for a familiar face frantically.

"Ron!" he started calling out desperately. "Ron! Neville! Seamus! Dean!"

"Delphine!" he heard a high girlish voice that sounded just as frantic. "Jeanne! Gabrielle!"

"Jacques! Phellippe! Michel!"

"André! Stephané! Marcel!"

"Dominique! Fleur!"

Those weren't the familiar names of fellow Hogwarts students! Somehow Harry had drifted into the stream of students rushing out of the blue tent!

He struggled back in the direction of the Hogwarts tent hoping to find his dorm-mates still there and at least the names shouted out around him started to sound less foreign again.

"Tom! Bobby! Quintus!"

"Elizabeth! Ann! Cynthia!"

"Parvati! Lavender!"

"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed with relief and hugged his friend.

"Harry? I've lost my dorm-mates. We've got to get out of here," Hermione said almost in a single breath.

"Everybody's going that way," Harry shouted pointing. "But I can't find the line."

"Let's follow them then," Hermione decided and gripped Harry's hand tightly. "They'll line up somewhere."

So they stumbled along with the other children into increasing darkness as they were heading away from the camp-fires, but nobody seemed to dare to cast lumos and possibly attract the Death Eaters' attention. Soon it became impossible to see where they put their feet and they stumbled over roots, and into ditches in the ground, but they never let go of each other's hands. Sometimes they heard snatches of English sentences, sometimes a foreign language they couldn't understand. Clearly the students of the two institutes had become hopelessly mixed together now.

Harry almost fell onto a little girl who was lying on the ground sobbing: "Madame Maxime! Madame Maxime! J'ai peur!"

Hermione bent down and pulled her back onto her feet with her free hand. "We've got to get out of here. The Death Eaters are coming. Don't cry. We'll find your classmates when we find your line."

"How?" Harry gasped. "We can't even understand what year or house she is."

"We'll just hand her over to someone from her institute. They'll understand her just fine. Or to a Professor. They'll know how to contact her institute."

Together they stumbled on until Hermione tripped over what Harry at first thought to be Dobby.

"Dobby not here," the elf squeaked as she tried desperately to drag herself along even though something heavy seemed to be tied to her foot. "I is Winky."

"Can we help you Winky?" Hermione offered. "Maybe free your leg?"

Winky shook her head. "Can't free. Is Master's orders." And she struggled on.

A little later Harry collided with Draco who looked at them with wide frightened eyes.

"I lost Gregory and Vincent," was all he said.

"Don't worry," Hermione said. "I'm sure they'll be fine. They've just got to go in the same direction as everybody else. Nobody's going to get lost. We just can't find people right now because it's so dark and there are so many children. This has to be two whole institutes mixed together."

Harry wondered vaguely whether she really was that confident or was trying to convince herself. He took Draco's hand with his free one, since Hermione was still holding on to the foreign girl's as well as his.

Where were the Professors? Surely if there were two institutes mixed up there also ought to be twice as many adults to show them the way, shouldn't they?

Harry looked around for taller shapes, but all the ones he could get a close enough look at turned out to be older students rather than adults.

"There's a wizard over there," Draco said suddenly.

Relieved Harry adjusted his direction towards the tall shape, but when they reached him they recognised him as Ludo Bagman rather than a Professor. And he wasn't giving any directions either. He just stood around looking pale and frightened.

"Shouldn't you be back at the camp-site helping the Aurors restore order, Mr. Bagman?" Hermione asked him.

Ludo Bagman blinked at her confusedly and then disapparated.

"Oh dear," Hermione said. "He must be in shock. I hope he won't do anything stupid in this condition."

"But what do we do now?" Harry asked.

"Keep following the other children," Hermione said as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "As long as we stay with the rest we must be found again even if we are in the wrong place."

"You think we're lost then?" Draco asked.

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know, but if so many children are missing they can't help but notice and come looking for us."

Eventually they reached a clearing where everybody else seemed to have stopped and sat in the grass.

"Hermione," Hermione said very clearly pointing at herself. "Harry. Draco. We are from Hogwarts Secondary Institute for Witches and Wizards."

Then she pointed at the little girl.

"Florence," she stated equally clearly. "Institute Magique du Beauxbattons."

"There," Hermione announced sounding very pleased. "She's from Beauxbattons institute. That's in France."

"She looks awfully young to be in a secondary institute already," Harry said doubtfully.

"She might not be," Hermione said. "Beauxbattons is supposed to be a really big institute that covers both primary and secondary education. Perhaps ..."

"Morsmordre!" a deep voice yelled somewhere in the bushes and a horrible green skull with a snake for a tongue appeared in the sky.

The children jumped up in fright and huddled close together. Many screamed and started to run off in random directions, but they didn't get far.

There were several loud pops and a number of adult wizards appeared among the children.

"Stupefy!" was the last thing Harry heard before the world went dark.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Harry's excursion ends sooner than expected.

Chapter 10: Mayhem at the Ministry

Harry woke up in a bed in the Hogwarts hospital wing. He sat up and looked around quite confused by the sudden change of location. Almost all the beds in the room were occupied, but not by anyone Harry knew well. They seemed to be a random selection of students from every year and house.

"What happened?" he asked Madam Pomfrey when she reached his bed on her round. "How did I get here?"

"Oh, it was really terrible," Madam Pomfrey said. "I knew this excursion to a Qidditch match was a terrible idea, but I thought all it would do would be to inspire children to try dangerous stunts on their brooms. But it was worse! Some stupid hooligans had to get drunk and dress up as Death Eaters, abuse some poor Muggles and destroy property of several companies. Professor Sprout told me they managed to rescue the Muggles easily enough, but then some clown conjured the Dark Mark right over where you students were hiding in the woods. The false Death Eaters dispersed at the sight probably thinking their joke was about to become too real, but the ministry wizards apparated right to the site to catch the other fool and fired off stunning spells in every direction. You were one of the unfortunate innocent bystanders that got hit."

"Oh," Harry said. "Did they catch the culprit?"

Madam Pomfrey shrugged. "I really don't know. All I know is that there was a huge row between the headmaster and Mr. Crouch over it. And I must say he was right even though one really should never challenge the Ministry. Stunning spells can be very dangerous to small children and people with weak hearts. They should be used with judgement."

"I don't even know how to cast them," Harry pointed out the uselessness of the lecture.

"And that is a very good thing," the nurse stated.

"But what happened to my friends?" he asked. "Where's Hermione and Draco and that little French girl? Florence, I think she said? They were right beside me."

"Well, I suppose they must have been lucky enough not to get hit," Madam Pomfrey said. "They only apparated those students who needed medical attention back here. The rest are going to portkey back after breakfast as planned."

She gave Harry a calming draught and told him to try to sleep some more.

"You'll want to go to lunch with your friends, won't you? And then there'll be the sorting and welcoming feast in the evening. You need to rest and regain some energy for that."

"It was terrible," Hermione told them at lunch. "All those wizards just popping up all over the place, and shooting spells left and right. I saw you fall over and thought you were dead, but then Professor Snape and Professor Flitwick appeared and started firing spells back at the attackers. It was like a really big duel until the headmaster came and ordered everybody to stop and take the injured students to safety. Professor Snape picked you up and disapparated and then they went and found all the other people that had been hit. Poor little Winky was found in the bushes with the wand that did it, but it had been stolen so that didn't help the Aurors and they almost arrested Winky, but in the end her owner, a Mr. Crouch, just fired her for disobedience. I do hope she finds a new job. She only disobeyed because she was scared."

"One must never disobey one's boss," Harry reminded her.

"All she did was leave the tent to escape the Death Eaters," Hermione countered.

"They weren't even real Death Eaters," Harry said. "Just people dressed up as ones."

"Well, Winky didn't know that," Hermione defended the elf. "Anyway, then Professor McGonagall told Draco and me to go back to the tent and I gave Florence to her. She said she'd hand her over to one of the French Professors. I think she knows them."


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Harry overhears some news.

Chapter 11: Aboard the Hogwarts Express

"Actually Filius, I believe that this time Rita Skeeter might be closer to the truth than everybody believes," Harry heard Professor Dumbledore say casually as he passed the head table on his way to the feast.

"If they were real Death Eaters then why did they flee at the sight of the Dark Mark?" Professor Sinistra challenged.

Harry stopped as if to look at the decorations. This conversation was interesting.

"I wouldn't dare claim that it was an outright Death Eater event," Professor Snape said in his usual sarcastic tone, though Harry wasn't sure why this statement should merit it. "But I could have sworn that I recognised some of the individuals as former Death Eaters by their distinctive style. The levitation spell they used on the Muggles, too, was an old Death Eater favourite."

"It certainly wasn't intended as an official Death Eater action and I doubt that any of them really want Voldemort to return," the headmaster said. "Which is probably why the Mark frightened them. It was too serious."

"Oh, so abusing a poor Muggle family and destroying property was all in good fun?" Professor Sprout demanded angrily.

"To a drunk Death Eater they are," Professor Snape stated. "And probably to more than one other dunderhead in the same condition."

"I just hope they don't interfere with the tournament as well," Professor Sinistra said. "That's the last thing we need."

"We certainly won't be offering any alcohol on the institute grounds," Professor McGonagall snapped. "Most of the watchers will be children anyway."

"Headmaster," the voice of Argus Filch, the caretaker, intruded into the conversation. "Professor Hagrid and the new first years have arrived."

Harry frowned. Just when he'd overheard something so interesting!

"Why then, bring them in," Professor Dumbledore said happily.

"They need to change first," the caretaker reminded him. "And Professor Moody still isn't here."

"Ah yes, Amos Diggory did floo me to tell me that Alastair was delayed. Some disagreement with the ministry over enchanted garbage cans. Apparently Arthur Weasley said he couldn't let it slide."

Enchanted garbage cans weren't nearly as interesting as Death Eaters and tournaments and Harry was beginning to draw attention from his fellow students. Ron was even calling to him now. So he decided to give up his listening post and take his seat at the Gryffindor table.

"What's the matter?" Ron demanded immediately "Why did you stop? Didn't you see us?"

"The Professors were talking about some kind of tournament," Harry told him eagerly. "Here at the institute!"


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: It's not an entirely happy welcoming feast.

Chapter 12: The Triwizard Tournament

They didn't get a chance to discuss the exciting news as only moments later the door opened and Professor McGonagall marched in with the new first years. Harry let his eyes wander over them wondering whether any of them came from his and Hermione's old primary institute. He didn't recognise any of their faces, but then the institute had been a big one, much larger than Hogwarts, and these students would have been first years in his final year.

With a start Harry realised that this was the last time Hogwarts institute might receive students that he had met before. The oldest students now at the primary institute had only arrived the day after Harry had left. Surely there was nobody there now that still remembered him though most of the teachers and nurses would still be the same ones he'd known.

With a strangely lost and lonely feeling Harry remembered his old dorm, classroom, corridors, playground and even the dreaded headmaster's office. He shouldn't be feeling this bad about never seeing them again. Hogwarts institute was his home now, after all, but he had once loved that place and the children in it as much as he did Hogwarts now. Would there come a time when he would feel as distant from and forgotten by Ron, Hermione and Draco as he now did by Malcolm, Dudley and Pierce? Would he even recognise one of them, if he happened to see them now?

The sorting hat's song distracted him from the sad thoughts and soon he was smiling again and applauding his newly sorted house-mates as cheerfully as everybody else.

He remained quite happy until the headmaster shattered that feeling by announcing that there would be no Quidditch at the institute this year. Instead there would be something called the Triwizard Tournament, which was only for seventeen year old students, and only one of those could participate.

It was a terrible blow. Last year Quidditch had been the only thing he'd really enjoyed and now it was replaced by something he couldn't even participate in? It just wasn't fair!

Professor Moody, the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, finally arrived during the headmaster's speech. He didn't look like he'd be a pleasant teacher either. At the sight of his terribly scarred face Harry almost wished for Professor Lupin back even though he had been convinced that Harry was lazy and badly behaved.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Hermione's fight for elf-rights doesn't make sense in this universe.

Chapter 13: Mad-Eye Moody

Opinions on Professor Moody differed. Frederick and George, who were lucky enough to have him on the very first day of school declared him to be the coolest teacher ever while many of the younger children were frightened and appalled by his looks.

"It's not his fault that he has ugly scars, Ginevra," Hermione admonished the younger girl. "He was an Auror and fought in many battles during the war. Just think, the poor man got such terrible injuries from Death Eaters. That only proves how qualified he is to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"Oh yes," George agreed. "He knows exactly what it's like."

Harry didn't want to know how George could tell. As far as he knew the encounter at the Quidditch game had been the closest any of them had ever come to fighting a real Death Eater.

"I know he's an Auror," Ginevra said. "But he still looks scary."

And despite Hermione's best efforts she refused to change her mind.

Ginevra had only just walked away when Draco joined their group looking very pale and shocked.

"I just had a run-in with that horrid Professor Moody," he told them.

"It's not his fault that he has ugly scars!" Hermione exclaimed.

"I don't care about his scars," Draco returned with a weak glare. "He turned me into a ferret and slammed me into the walls and floor. And I'm not the only Slytherin he's attacked. He's got it in for my house. You should hear the way he talks to Professor Snape. It's downright threatening. If you're so eager to defend people, Hermione, why not us poor abused Slytherins?"

"Or house-elves," Ron suggested jokingly. "Weren't you going to do something about Mr Crouch firing Winky?"

"I already did," Hermione informed him. "I went to Professor McGonagall and told her all about it and she told me that Professor Dumbledore has already offered her a new job at Hogwarts. So she once again has the opportunity to be useful. He's even offered her pay since she is a free elf now, but Professor McGonagall doesn't think she'll accept that. House-elves don't get paid, you see. They work only for the satisfaction of being useful, to have a place to sleep and food. Isn't that great?"

Harry nodded. He wished that he could be that useful, but suspected that he'd always need a little money to be able to buy himself some extra treats he wanted.


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: The spell that killed ... well, a house-elf at least

Chapter 14: The Unforgivable Curses

Two more days of anticipation passed before Harry finally had his own first lesson with Professor Moody. Most of his classmates were eager to sit in the front as they had heard a lot of stories about how cool Professor Moody was, but by reminding Ron and Hermione of Draco's horror stories he managed to convince them to sit in the back.

Ron in particular only did so hesitantly at first, but looked very pleased with his seat when Professor Moody revealed his intention to demonstrate the unforgivable curses on three engorged spiders.

From this distance the imperious curse was an excellent show and Harry and his friends cheered with everybody else, but when Professor Moody continued with the cruciatus curse Hermione fell silent and frowned.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked her. "Don't you like it?"

"I think Draco's right about Professor Moody. This is ..."

"What's that in the back row?" Professor Moody snapped. "If you have something on topic to say, tell the whole class. If not, save your worthless chatter."

Harry lowered his head in shame, but to his surprise Hermione stood up as if she'd been called on to answer a question.

"I was saying that this isn't funny. The spider is suffering the most excruciating pain it is possible for a spider to feel. We should be feeling appalled, not amused," she declared looking into the Professor's eyes defiantly.

To Harry's, and probably everybody else's surprise, Professor Moody was pleased however and called that a very important contribution indeed.

He left the cruciatus spider twitching helplessly next to the imperious one and demonstrated Avada Kedavra on the third.

Harry watched that demonstration wide-eyed. This was the spell that had given him his scar. This spell had killed his parents, if the story his headmasters had told him was true after all and even if it wasn't it had killed at least one innocent house-elf nurse that had tried to defend her charges.

Yes. maybe Draco was right about Professor Moody. Harry politely declined when the Professor offered him a cup of tea after the lesson, claiming that he had urgent Divination homework to do.

It wasn't even really a lie. That Divination homework did take up almost the whole evening to write, because he and Ron were stupid enough to attempt to do it properly at first. Only when all their efforts failed to yield any comprehensible results did they resort to lying, which was much faster and a lot more fun, but also very bad, Harry knew.

At least Frederick and George, too, didn't seem to be completely comfortable with what they were writing. It made Harry feel a little better to know that he wasn't the only one that was forced to cheat sometimes.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: This Harry is used to obeying adults, so ...

Chapter 15: Beauxbattons and Durmstrang

If they thought the demonstration of the three unforgiveables was the most exciting thing that was going to happen that year they were soon pleasantly, or not so pleasantly, surprised. The next lesson Professor Moody declared that he would cast the imperius on all of them so they could learn to recognise and if possible break it.

"But casting it on another person is illegal," Hermione gasped. "Won't you go to Azkaban for that?"

"We're not people," Harry reminded her. "We're only children."

"I have already cleared it with the headmaster," Professor Moody assured them. "This is intended to prepare and protect you after all, and of course I won't make you do anything forbidden."

What they did have to do was all terribly embarrassing, though, and Harry felt sorry for his classmates until his own turn came and he discovered how pleasant it felt to be this free of all responsibilities and cares. He was almost more disappointed that it was over than that he had failed to throw it off when the lesson ended.

"We will continue to work on this," Professor Moody threatened as the class filed out laughing and ridiculing each other for what they'd done.

Another class that made him uneasy these days was Care for Magical Creatures. Professor Hagrid finally seemed to have done with Flobberworms and made them study something called blast-ended screwts instead. Harry wasn't sure what those skrewts actually were or where they came from, but they stung, bit and exploded - and were growing rapidly. It was almost a miracle that nobody had suffered anything worse than a few burns so far, he thought.

They had barely settled into the routine of their fourth year schedule when it was upset by the arrival of the delegations from the other two institutes that were to compete in the Triwizard Tournament: Beauxbattons and Durmstrang.

When the Beauxbattons students filed past the neat rows in which the Hogwarts students awaited them Harry looked as closely as possible at every face, but of course the headmistress had only brought a few students that were actually old enough to enter. Florence was not among them, and none of the others looked familiar from that terrible night in the forest either.

When the Durmstrang students arrived Harry didn't bother with such close scrutiny. After all he'd never met any Durmstrang students before.

But then Ron jabbed his elbow into Harry's side. "Look it's Victor Krum!"


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: No last name, no go ... or is there?

Chapter 16: The Goblet of Fire

There was a huge feast in honour of the foreign guests, but Ron was quite disappointed that Victor Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students chose to sit at the Slytherin table. If he was entirely honest so was Harry, but Hermione reminded him that such a fuss over a mere sports star was very inappropriate. Victor Krum wasn't an important politician or the owner of a large company after all. He was still only a student like themselves.

At the end of the feast Professor Dumbledore got up, explained the rules of the tournament once again and then presented the Goblet of Fire which would be set up in the centre of the entrance hall surrounded by an age line to make sure that only students who were already seventeen could throw in their names.

"Now remember," Dumbledore repeated once more at the end of his speech. "The parchment must have your first name in the first line, your last name in the second and your institute in the third. Do not use your number or put your institute first. That might confuse the Goblet."

There was some excited speculation on who might enter and a lot of boasting, ridiculing and daring among those old enough to participate, on the way back to the common room.

"Anyone that is seventeen and doesn't enter is a lousy coward that doesn't deserve to be in Gryffindor!" the male seventh year prefect announced. "I sure hope nobody in my dorm will disgrace our house like that!"

"My parents owled me about it and said not to enter," another seventh year spoke up. "I'm their only male child and they have a business to pass on to me. They don't want to lose me to some stupid accident."

"What sort of Gryffindor cares what his Mummy and Daddy say when there's fame and glory to be won?"

Harry was almost glad that he wasn't old enough to have to consider an attempt to enter with the help of an ageing potion such as Frederick and George were discussing. Nobody could call him a coward for not knowing his last name yet, right? He didn't have to tell anyone that he also didn't like what Hermione had read about death rates in past tournaments.

The next morning also proved that the ageing potion was not good enough to get you over the headmaster's age line anyway and after all the prospective champions had thrown their parchments into the Goblet the Hogwarts students went on to their usual Saturday classes, though they were just a little less attentive in them than normally.

Professor Hagrid had bad news for them. He had finally figured out the blast-ended skrewts' favourite food: each other! And now the students had to help him build more boxes to keep them separately.

This resulted in several damaged fingers as the students slammed lids and hammers down on each other's or their own hands. Even Professor Hagrid hit his own thumb when he got distracted by Madame Maxime leading her students past on what appeared to be an herbological excursion into the Forbidden Forest.

"Is that safe?" Harry asked the Professor a little nervously.

"I've told her what's in there," Professor Hagrid returned. "An' she's a very competent witch. Long as she keeps 'em all together, she'll be able to protect 'em."

It was Halloween and thus the day ended with another feast which was then followed by the announcement of the Triwizard champions' names. Nobody appeared to be surprised when Victor Krum was announced as the Durmstrang champion and while some of his fellows had to be disappointed they all applauded him loudly.

The Beauxbattons champion was a silver-haired girl named Fleur Delacour who received a lot less applause from her own institute, whose students seemed to be a selfish and unpleasant lot, but quite a lot from the older male Hogwarts students. Harry had to agree that there was something vaguely attractive about her, but saved his own applause for the Hogwarts champion which turned out to be the Hufflepuff Quidditch team captain Cedric.

Professor Dumbledore announced him as Cedric Diggory, though, which confused Harry at first. Of course he had known that Cedric was in sixth year and of course he also knew that sixth years were sixteen, and that one learned one's last name when one turned sixteen, but somehow he'd never combined those facts before and realised that Cedric had to have a last name.

And then the Goblet spit out another parchment. Professor Dumbledore caught it, read it, paled and then read out "Harry" without adding a last name.


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: There are some minor technical problems with the rules of the tournament ... really minor such as ... how does one graduate without grades?

Chapter 17: The Four Champions

Albus Dumbledore realised almost too late that it had not been the wisest way to hide the boy's last name. Eleven Harrys, all of them under seventeen, most only second and first years whose parents had named them after the famous baby who had defeated Voldemort, were being swarmed with eager questions by confused classmates.

He didn't have much time to spare to pity them, though, as he was soon in a very similar situation when the organisers of the tournament got over the first shock and demanded to see the parchment without a last name.

"Forgive me, good sirs," Albus apologised to them. "The parchment does list a last name, though it is in the third line. Whoever wrote this application has put the institute first. That is how it was possible for the Goblet to perceive it as belonging to a fourth school."

"What do you mean by whoever, then?" Mr. Crouch demanded angrily.

"Yes, do tell us the name of the fourth champion, Albus," Mr. Bagman begged excitedly.

"I say whoever, Bartemius," Albus said with all the dignity he could muster. "Because the student named here cannot possibly have written the application himself."

"How can you tell that?" Mr. Crouch snapped.

"Quite simply, Bartemius. You see the boy is too young to even know his last name, yet. So obviously he cannot have written it down."

"But then ..." Mr. Crouch gasped. "We cannot do that, Albus! A boy that young cannot possibly participate. Yet it is a binding magical contract. There is no getting out of it either."

That was when Albus' frantically searching mind hit on a possible solution.

"Oh, I think we will be able to find a way. In fact, I have a few ideas that might get around it already."

"Really?" Bartemius Crouch asked incredulously. "How?"

Ah, good old Crouch. He was such a stiff, rule-abiding, old bastard that he couldn't even imagine that there might be a way to bend a rule.

"Why, the first thing I am going to do is to inform the boy's parents. He is under age, so them denying him permission to participate might well annul the contract. We should also check whether such a contract even exists since the boy did not have parental permission in the first place, is under age, did not, in fact, apply at all and his application does not comply with the rules of form stipulated. Of course the tournament cannot proceed before the question of whether or not there is a fourth champion is cleared up, so if you would please ask the other champions to rejoin us ..."

The legal test was performed right after the feast and had exactly the result Albus had expected and feared. The contract was binding despite all the reasons standing against it. Nobody had thought of any of those contingencies when the Goblet of Fire had been enspelled to choose the participants and thus they had not been woven into the spell.

"We will certainly include every one of them next time," Mr. Crouch decided.

"Indeed," Albus said. "But now I shall go and see about notifying the parents so we can see what effect their express objection has."

"It wasn't considered either," Mr. Crouch said nervously. "I very much fear that the boy will still be forced to participate."

"Let's not give up until we have tried it, Bartemius," Albus said, though he very much suspected the same and had in fact only brought up all the legal objections to help Crouch rationalise what he actually had in mind. "And if it does fail as well, well, then we will simply have to think of ways that the boy can fail the tasks without being in any real danger, a sort of token participation."

Crouch was about to protest, but just then Madam Maxime addressed him: "Now that that has been cleared up for the moment, Mr. Crouch, what is this about the champions being excused from their finals? How do you expect Mademoiselle Delacour to graduate without taking her Magicaureat?"

It was a worthwhile question, Albus realised as he started to walk away as silently and inconspicuously as his colourful robes allowed. If a seventh year had been chosen as the Hogwarts champion, what would they have done after finishing their seventh year without a single NEWT?

"Vat are end of year finals anyway?" Igor Karkaroff barked behind him supplying an excellent distraction. "Does dis mean dat Victor is excused from the last of the tests or exams he is to be graded on in each subject? Vouldn't it be viser to excuse him from dose dat collide most closely with de tasks?"

By now Albus had reached the first floor and was out of sight of Mr. Crouch and the rest. Not willing to risk his chance to get away unaccompanied he decided not to remain to hear how the two ministry wizards would cope with the concept of a school system that tested its students all through the year.


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: The actual weighing is mostly unchanged, so here is something ... different.

Chapter 18: The Weighing of the Wands

"I refuse to let you turn my son into a pathetic coward and cheat! It is bad enough that I have fathered an idiot with no sense of adventure. I will not let you destroy the only chance he will most likely ever have to be a credit to the proud old name he bears!"

"James," Albus started, but he got no further.

"You would send your only son to his death? Well, not with me! Albus, I demand that you remove Harry from this horrid, irresponsible tournament at once! I don't care how you do it. My child is not to participate in such nonsense."

"Your child? Your child? It is my name he is shaming, not yours! You gave up all right to him the moment you gave up the name I gave you, Mudblood!"

"You watch your mouth when you're talking to my wife, you ..."

"Please gentlemen!" Albus tried again. "All this yelling is not bringing us any closer to a solution ..."

"There is only one solution. Take Harry out of the tournament! Now!"

"I already told you that might not be possible, Lily," Albus said patiently. "It certainly isn't without James' agreement."

"Which you definitely won't get. For the first time in his life my son has done something to make me proud and you want me to stop it? Oh no, Lily. Harry has signed up to compete in the tournament and he will go through with it."

"That is, that is ... Oh, can't you talk some sense into your husband?"

"Why Lily, I don't see why you are so upset about this. You have more children than Harry, don't you? Children by the husband you claim to actually love, children who have the same name as you. I for one support James all the way. Make Harry compete, I say. If he dies he will die a hero's death and I will bear James another son to replace him."

"Why you, you cold-hearted snake, you!"

"Albus, could you step outside with us for a moment?" Bartemius Crouch said in a very tired voice.

Albus nodded, got up and led Crouch and Bagman around the two arguing couples to the door.

"I am afraid the legal situation is against us," Crouch said as soon as the door had closed behind them muffling the shouting to a bearable level. "In disputes between a husband and wife the man as head of the family has more weight, not to mention that by the divorce Lily gave up her connection with the Potter family and unless her husband adopts him, Harry remains a Potter."

"Not to mention that she officially accepted the blame during the divorce proceedings to get rid of James," Albus added. "Yes, I know. That is why I am so insistent that I need James' agreement to withdraw Harry from the tournament."

"Well, that's not going to happen," Ludo Bagman said easily. "You heard how eager the man is to see his son compete. And I do understand him, headmaster. I too rather want the excitement of a fourth serious competitor in the game."

"We certainly cannot stick with your plan of a token participation, if his father insists on proper participation, either," Mr. Crouch added. "We will just have to support the boy as much as we can without breaking the rules and hope for the best. Remember that there will be no real danger to the competitors in the second task and that they can signal for rescue in the third. As long as he survives the encounter with the dragon, little Harry will get through the tournament alive and hopefully make his father proud even if he does end up being last."

Albus sighed deeply.

"Very well. I will send somebody to fetch the boy so I can inform him. You'd best go ahead and arrange the weighing of the wands."

Mr. Crouch glanced pointedly at the closed office door: "Fetch the boy?"

"To Professor McGonagall's office," Albus returned with a forced twinkle. "But Bartemius, do make sure any reporters understand that they are not to use Harry's last name. We do have students that already read the Daily Prophet at the institute."


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Hagrid acts un-teacherly.

Chapter 19: The Hungarian Horntail

Being the fourth triwizard champion was no fun at all despite the fact that he was excused from his exams Harry soon discovered. First Ron claimed that Harry had betrayed him and stopped talking with him and then the newspaper published some horrid article which claimed that Harry was confident that he'd win, because he'd defeated You-Know-Who when he'd been a baby.

"So how much harder can this be," the article claimed he'd said.

The Hufflepuffs, very understandably, felt much like Ron and most Ravenclaws and Slytherins predicted that he was too young to know enough magic to survive the tasks.

It all got so bad that even though he was now allowed to go, Harry once again fell back on wearing his invisibility cloak on the Hogsmeade trip.

Much to his surprise he discovered that Professor Moody with his magical eye could see him anyway and then Professor Moody pointed his presence out to Professor Hagrid who asked him to visit him at midnight and bring the cloak.

Harry wasn't sure what to think of a teacher asking him to sneak out after curfew, but he went and thus invisibly joined Hagrid on a date with Madam Maxime. A dragon-watching date!

What was even worse was that a man that Professor Hagrid called Charley told them that the dragons were intended for the tournament. Harry would have to face one of them as his first task.

The Charley-man told Professor Hagrid that he shouldn't have brought Madam Maxime, because she'd be sure to tell her champion.

Quite dejected Harry returned to the common room, but ran into Professor Karkaroff, who appeared to be on his way to the dragon enclosure as well, on the way.

"So Fleur and Victor both probably know by now," Hermione said when he told her about his nightly adventure the next morning. "They'll come prepared. Poor Cedric, though!"

"Poor Cedric?" Harry gasped. "Poor me! I have no idea how to defeat a dragon!"


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Harry gets a private lesson from Professor Moody.

Chapter 20: The First Task

The thoughts of having to face a dragon tortured Harry all the next day. What should he do? Even Hermione couldn't find a spell that could stop a dragon. Or well, she did find some, but they all required a team of skilled wizards. A single boy would stand no chance with them.

When Harry happened to see Cedric in the corridor that afternoon, though, he remembered that Hermione had said she felt sorry for him and decided that it really wasn't fair that one champion only wasn't warned.

So he went up to the older boy.

"Cedric, can I talk to you for a moment?"

Cedric's friends glared at him, but Cedric himself looked at him measuringly for a moment and then shrugged and sent his friends on ahead.

"The first task is dragons," Harry told him. "Fleur and Victor already know. Their headmasters have seen them."

"Dragons?" Cedric laughed. "You poor little fool. They can't use dragons. Keeping them is illegal. Whoever told you that was just trying to mess with your head."

"No, Cedric, it's for real. They really, really have four dragons."

"Yes, yes, I'm sure they sounded convincing, but believe me they're just making fun of you. They know you're too young for this and they're using it to make you look stupid. Don't listen to them."

"But Cedric," Harry started but was interrupted by Professor Moody who called him into his office.

Remembering what had been the result when Professor Lupin had asked him into that very same office last year Harry tensed, but then he remembered that as a Triwizard champion he was excused from finals. He could not fail this year no matter how bad his performance in class was.

"That was a very decent attempt," Professor Moody told him. "But very, very stupid, Harry."

"But it's not fair if Cedric is the only one that doesn't know," Harry defended his actions.

"Fair?" Professor Moody gasped. "My boy, if you fight fair against the dark arts you're dead, and do you know what happens to businesses that treat their competition fairly? They go bankrupt. Fairness is for kids and you're playing with the big boys in this tournament. Now I understand that you are at a disadvantage because you are the youngest here, so I've decided to take you under my wing a little."

Harry looked at the Professor wide-eyed. Was this true? Was fairness really something that destroyed your usefulness?

"So you have already found out that you have to get past a dragon in the first task," the Professor continued when Harry didn't say anything. "But do you know how you're going to do it?"

Harry shook his head.

"Play to your strengths, boy," Professor Moody roared. "What can you do especially well?"

"Nothing," Harry admitted. "I'm a very average student."

"Well, there has to be something you do better than other things even if you aren't the best in your year at it. What is it? What sort of magic do you enjoy the most?"

"Oh, Flying! I fly pretty well. I'm Seeker on the house team. Except there isn't a team this year and I can't fly past the dragon."

"Why not?" the Professor asked sounding honestly surprised.

"Because I can't bring my broom to the task, we're only allowed our wands."

"And haven't you learned how to cast a summoning charm, yet? Just summon the broom to you using your wand."

In fact, they had learned that in Charms a few weeks ago, but Harry still hadn't mastered it.

He spent the rest of the day practising it with Hermione's help and when he was called into a tent with the other champions the next day he felt halfway assured that he could get his broom. Whether he could fly past the dragon was a different question, though, and when he drew the most dangerous looking of the lot he was inclined to think that he couldn't, but then Mr. Bagman, who was once again there on behalf of the ministry, reassured him that there were expert wizards standing by to rescue him if he failed.

He even offered to give Harry tips how to accomplish the task, but Harry declined. He was determined to go with Professor Moody's suggestion. He always felt better when he was on a broom and his Firebolt had been a very special Christmas gift from his secret uncle Sirius. It reminded him that he was special to Sirius and that thought always gave him extra strength and courage. If he was going to die he wanted to do it thinking of Uncle Sirius and being special.

However he didn't die. He got past the horrible dragon and reached the golden egg that he was supposed to retrieve with only a minor burn and to his surprise found himself tied for first place with Victor.

"There really were dragons. I don't believe it, dragons," he heard Cedric mutter to himself as they returned to the school.

He almost went over to Cedric to say 'I told you so.', but just then Hermione and Ron arrived and Harry completely forgot Cedric in his joy at the realisation that Ron had forgiven him his participation in the tournament.

"Oh Harry, could I have a quick word?" the voice of Rita Skeeter interrupted their reunion.

"No," Harry barked at her.


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Oh no, people keep telling Harry bad things!

Chapter 21: The House-Elf Liberation Front

That evening there was a huge party just for Harry in the Gryffindor common room. Frederick and George went down to the kitchens and brought back all sorts of delicious party foods especially prepared by the house-elves. Harry was asked to show off the golden egg that he had stolen from the dragon and that was supposed to hold a clue for the second task again and again.

"Hey look!" Lee a classmate of the twins discovered "It can be opened!"

"It's Harry's clue," Hermione reminded him sharply. "Only he has the right to open it. Who knows what might happen to anybody else who tries."

"Yeah," George agreed, plucked the egg out of Lee's hands and handed it back to Harry. "You open it. Go on!"

So Harry did, but the sound it made when it was open was so terrible that he slammed it shut again. For a moment the children just stared in shock and confusion.

Then there was a popping sound an Neville turned into a canary.

"You bastards!" Ron yelled while most Gryffindors howled with laughter and others rushed to Neville's side or looked on in horror. "You did it again! After what happened to Gregory!"

But after a little while there was another popping sound and Neville was himself again - a little startled and surrounded by canary feathers, but unharmed.

"Canary Creams!" Frederick announced. "Turn your friends into birds and watch them flutter and tweet! Our latest product!"

Harry and Ron, too, laughed with relief now, but Hermione shook her head disapprovingly.

"Your friends really are bastards, Harry," she said. "They could have poisoned Neville with their irresponsible experimenting."

"But they didn't," Harry pointed out. "He's fine. Relax, Hermione."

The next morning Hedwig surprised Harry by actually bringing him a letter. Harry opened it right away and regretted it a moment later when everybody wanted to know who it was from. There was no getting around telling them now.

"Auror Black," he admitted. "He wants to congratulate me on passing the first task and ... oh! He tried to get the Ministry to send him here to investigate who put my name in the cauldron. Then he could have been here to watch the task. But Rufus Scrimgour the head of the auror department told him that he and Auror Potter are permanently banned from working at Hogwarts institute, or the nursery or primary institute after the way they behaved last year."

"Well, I suppose they do deserve that," Hermione commented. "They may have had the best of intentions, but their actions were terrible."

"But you were the one who wanted to protect them from punishment," Harry reminded her.

"I didn't want them to be fired," Hermione corrected. "That would have been too harsh."

His secret uncle Sirius also wrote that he personally suspected the Durmstrang headmaster Igor Karkaroff who had apparently been a Death Eater and only been released because he'd turned informant for the Ministry. Harry kept that part to himself, though, and only showed it to Hermione, Ron, Draco, Vincent and Gregory later that day.

"It's a good thing that you held your tongue," Hermione said. "He's not just an adult, but a headmaster even if he isn't ours. To accuse him of something you can't prove would be so disrespectful!"

"I'd show the letter to our headmaster, though," Draco recommended. "Or at least tell him that Auror Black said to watch out for Headmaster Karkaroff because he was a Death Eater. That sounds like a proven fact."

So at lunch Harry went up to the head table and asked Professor Dumbledore whether he could talk with him in private.

"I've been told something," he explained when the headmaster seemed to be reluctant to leave the Great Hall over the matter. "But it's a bad thing about an adult and I don't want anyone else to hear me say something like that. But Draco said if it's true you ought to know it, Sir."

"Draco told you a bad thing about an adult?" Professor Dumbledore asked shooting a meaningful look at Professor Snape.

"Oh no, an adult told me," Harry corrected hastily. "In a letter. I showed it to my friends because I didn't know what to do and Draco said to tell you."

"Very well," the headmaster said. "Come up to my office with me after lunch, but I do hope you realise that if something is too bad to repeat out loud you also shouldn't show it around in writing."

Harry felt very guilty for that, but what else could he have done when he hadn't known what to do?

"I'll be late for Care for Magical Creatures, if we wait until after lunch," was all he said to the headmaster, though. Of course Professor Hagrid was right there and could probably hear them, so most likely he wouldn't be punished for being late, but he still felt he'd better point it out.

"I am Sure Professor Hagrid will excuse that for such an important matter," the headmaster said as well.

"Yes, it is true," Professor Dumbledore confirmed quite unconcernedly to Harry's surprise. "Once, when he was young and foolish, Headmaster Karkaroff was a Death Eater. Why don't you have another lemon drop?"

"But aren't you worried that he is at the institute now?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Oh no, Harry," the Ministry wouldn't have released him from Azkaban if he hadn't been honestly repentant and you mustn't forget that his information enabled the Aurors to arrest many of Voldemort's most high-ranking followers. The last thing Igor Karkaroff would want is to reconnect with them. They would much rather kill him than include him in any of their plans again."

"Oh," said Harry. He hadn't realised that at all. "I'm very sorry to have bothered you with such a bad tale then."

"Nothing of the sort, my dear boy, nothing of the sort," Dumbledore assured him. "It is my place as a teacher to address any concerns that you might have, no matter how ill perceived they might be. You did very right by taking this matter to me rather than worrying about it or spreading it further among your fellows."

Reassured Harry accepted another lemon drop and then went out to Hagrid's hut. He intended to go right up to the Professor and apologise for being late, but he was talking with Rita Skeeter and after reading the article she'd made out of her interview with him Harry preferred to keep his distance from her. So he went over to his friends instead and asked them about their lesson which had apparently been about finding out whether a magical creature hibernates or not. The blast-ended-skrewts, they had discovered, did not.

"Say Harry," Hermione asked him later that day. "Do you know how to get into the kitchens?"

"No," Harry replied. "Are you hungry?"

"Of course not," Hermione snapped. "But I've heard that that's where one goes to find a house-elf, and, well, do you remember Winky? I want to make sure she's really here and being productive and healthy."

To be honest Harry had almost completely forgotten Mr. Crouch's house-elf, but he realised that that wasn't the best thing to tell Hermione.

"We could ask Frederick and George," he suggested instead. "They know."

Hermione frowned at that and sent Harry to ask them alone, but did accept the information despite her disapproval of the twins' 'professional' activities.

The kitchens were quite impressive and full of cheerful house-elves. The only one that wasn't happy there appeared to be Winky. Apparently she still hadn't gotten over the shock of having been fired despite having a new job and the chance to be just as productive as before.

"Master needs his Winky," she wailed. "Oh my poor Master! What will he do?"

"He looked perfectly fine when he was here for the first task," Ron assured her.

"Master was here? You saw my Master?" Winky asked eagerly.

Happy that the elf was finally showing a hint of interest in something other than butterbeer and crying the children told her all about Mr. Crouch and the tournament, but then Winky surprised them by announcing that Mr. Bagman was a very bad wizard.

"Mr. Ludo Bagman?" Harry asked incredulously.

"A very bad wizard, my Master says. Very very bad!"

"He does seem quite irresponsible," Hermione offered as a possible explanation. "Maybe he caused some accident once?"

"Or maybe I'd better go and see the headmaster again," Harry said.


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: How finding a dancing partner works ... in Gryffindor and in Slytherin.

Chapter 22: The Unexpected Task

Even though he still didn't know who had thrown his name into the Goblet of Fire Harry felt quite happy and care-free in the weeks after the first task - until the day that Professor McGonagall announced that there was to be a ball at Christmas and the champions would have to open it with their partners.

That was quite a shock. Harry had never even thought about getting a girlfriend before, so where could he find a girl that would want to go with him?

To be honest it could have been easy enough. Several girls actually asked him, but they were all first or second years and Harry thought that it would be much too embarrassing to show up with such a little child on his arm, especially as only fourth years and above were supposed to go ... unless asked by one of the older students.

On the day on which their ball robes were handed out to them - There actually were several different colours to choose from instead of a normal uniform! - Harry let his eyes wander over all the girls in the Great Hall at dinner.

Many were too young, even more too tall and some simply didn't look nice enough, but in the end he settled on a particularly pretty one that he'd wanted to get to know better for a while. She seemed very nice as far as he could tell and they had at least one interest in common: They both played Quidditch. Surely they'd make great friends.

"I'm going to ask Cho from Ravenclaw," he announced later in the common room "She's a fifth year, but short enough that we'll look good on the dance-floor together and we can talk about Quidditch."

"A fifth year might be a little out of your league," George remarked.

"She might already have a boyfriend," Frederick added.

"Harry is a school champion, though," Neville pointed out. "I bet that'll tempt her."

"If she hasn't already promised her boyfriend," Frederick insisted.

"But never mind that," George waved the issue aside. "Can we borrow your owl, Ron? We have an important letter to send."

Harry didn't bother to listen to them any further. His own owl was away delivering a reply to his secret uncle Sirius and finding a girl to go to the ball with was a lot more important than all the owls and letters in the world. He was sure that he didn't want any other girl than Cho now, but he was still awfully nervous about asking her.

"Oh, what if she does say no?" he moaned a little while later.

"Then you ask somebody else," Ron said easily. "You're a school champion. They'll all want to go with you. I just hope I don't end up with a troll like Eloise."

That remark really upset Hermione leading to another day of her and Ron not talking to each other.

Harry took refuge with his Slytherin friends to escape their attempts to make him take a side.

"What about you?" he asked them. "Do you have partners for the ball?"

"Oh yes, we arranged it the very same evening that we heard," Draco told him. "Professor Snape made us all meet up in the common room and work it out year by year. I'm to go with Pansy."

"And I got Millicent," Gregory said happily. "She called dibs on me right away. Said she likes talking with me best. All the others wanted Draco, you see, because he's the best-looking, but Millicent says she can never follow what he's talking about and she's much more comfortable with me."

"And you, Vincent?" Harry asked his third friend who was being more quiet than usual.

"Astoria," Vincent replied curtly.

"Don't you like her?" Harry wondered. "She's quite pretty."

"Yes, but first she wanted me, you see," Draco explained. "And then, when I chose Pansy, she asked for Blaise, but he didn't pick her either and then it was Professor Snape who suggested that she should go with Vincent. She didn't choose him like Pansy and Millicent chose us."

That gave Harry the courage he needed to address Cho. She shouldn't get the impression that he didn't really want to go with her after all.

He messed up his request quite badly, however, stuttered and blushed through it and then it was all in vain. Cho was already going with Cedric.

Ashamed and disappointed Harry retreated to the common room where he found Ron almost in tears, because he'd been foolish enough to ask Fleur and of course she'd turned him down.

Neville on the other hand was beaming widely.

"I just asked Ginevra to the ball," he explained when Harry asked him why he was so happy. "And she accepted."

"It's not fair," Ron moaned. "Why can't I just waltz up to the first girl I want and get her to say yes if Neville can?"

"I can't," Neville reassured him. "The first girl I waltzed up to was actually Hermione, but she already had a date, just like Cho." He smiled encouragingly at Harry. "So I sat down and thought about what other girls I get on with the best and decided to try Ginevra next."

This advice promptly inspired Ron to ask Hermione. Harry wasn't sure why his friend thought that would be any help since Neville had just told them that she already had a date and they weren't even talking at the moment. Predictably Hermione recommended Eloise.

Harry on the other hand remembered the Slytherins who had simply paired up with their classmates in their own house and went over to Lavender and Parvati.

Lavender turned out to already be taken as well, but Parvati agreed easily enough.

"Great," Harry said, remembering that it was unpleasant not to be first or second choice. "I didn't really expect you to be free, you know. I thought a pretty girl like you would have too many offers."

Parvati giggled awfully, but she really was pretty with her dark skin and long black hair, Harry decided. She'd look almost as good as Cho on the dance-floor.


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: A lot of mysterious reactions.

Chapter 23: The Yule Ball

Though he still had not made any progress on solving his screaming egg clue Harry felt quite content and pleased with himself after not only passing the first task, but also finding a partner for the ball. The second task was ages away after all. Surely he'd think of something before then.

Christmas morning brought him a nice haul of presents, though nothing as spectacular as the Firebolt. His best gifts were a stash of Canary Cream free sweets, almost impossible to find in Gryffindor house these days, and a magical pocket knife. There also were a book about Quidditch, a new chess set and the usual Muggle studying program.

That evening they had to put on their new dress robes. Harry's green one - to match his eyes the house-elf that had helped him pick it out - looked very fitting for Christmas next to Parvati's red one.

He escorted her down into the entrance hall where they met the other champions and their dates. Fleur, it turned out, had chosen David, the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain, and Victor ... appeared with Hermione on his arm! A Hermione however that looked nothing like the girl Harry knew. All of a sudden she had turned stunningly beautiful. Harry wasn't quite sure why that upset Ron, but he didn't get a chance to ask his friend as just then the champions and their partners were separated from the rest of the children as they were supposed to open the ball and Ron was ushered into the Great Hall with all the rest.

Only after the opening dance did Harry find the chance to look around at the decorations and the guests of honour, who, of course, included the three headmasters and Mr. Bagman. Mr. Crouch however was nowhere to be seen. Instead, for some reason, Percy was there. Harry wished he could ask him why, but didn't get a chance.

Most likely, he told himself however, he'd find out all about the reasons for his presence and how he liked his new job at the ministry afterwards, since he did see him talk at length with Frederick and George and later with Ron who had nothing better to do since he hadn't found a partner.

A quick glance around for Eloise informed Harry that whether she had come with a partner or not, she definitely wasn't ignored. She was looking quite happy as she danced with a slightly pudgy, but nice looking boy that Harry had seen at the Hufflepuff table before, but didn't actually know.

When Parvati finally agreed to let him take a break from dancing so she could accept the invitation of a handsome Durmstrang boy Harry slipped over to spend some time with his friends, but Ron and Hermione once again got into a fight, this time over Victor Krum, and Harry fled to hang out with Draco and Pansy.

Past Mr. Bagman and the twins, who appeared to be discussing some business matter they fled out into the garden. This seemed to be an area for couples, though, and Pansy soon began to give Harry annoyed looks.

He tried to think of some excuse to leave his companions, but didn't see anybody else he could join.

And then they came across Professor Snape and Headmaster Karkaroff who were arguing about something and chasing off the couples.

"What's up with them?" Harry asked surprised.

Draco just shrugged, but Pansy seemed to be more interested in the matter.

"I suppose they're angry so many students are breaking the rules. Maybe they caught somebody going further than just holding hands and kissing," she suggested.

"It didn't sound like they were talking about students, though. Didn't Professor Snape say something about fleeing?" Harry asked.

"So he called Professor Karkaroff a coward," Pansy allowed. "I'm sure he didn't mean it. It was a challenge to stay. Just like when he calls us dunderheads when he wants us to prove how smart we are."

That still didn't seem quite right to Harry, but before he could say anything more about it they were almost run over by Madame Maxime who seemed to be having an even bigger argument with Professor Hagrid.

"Not a good day for the Professors it seems," Draco commented softly when the tearful Professor Hagrid had passed them as well.

"I think we'd better go back inside and dance some more," Pansy said. "It seems safer."

"Yes," Draco agreed. "Parvati's dance ought to be over by now."

So they returned to the ballroom and Draco and Pansy went straight to the dance-floor. Harry supposed they expected him to go and extract Parvati from the group of boys that surrounded her, but he thought that that would probably result in an unpleasant put down, so he retreated to a wall trying not to look as uncomfortable, lost and bored as he felt. If only this were already over!

After a while he realised that everybody seemed to be too busy having fun to pay him any attention and the door didn't appear to be watched, so he simply walked towards it confidently and left.

The hallways were empty and silent and even the common room had already been cleared of younger students. Nobody was there to see Harry come in early and go to bed. He pulled the curtains of his bed shut. Let the others wonder when he'd actually come in if they felt like it.


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Cedric gives Harry a clue, but it isn't quite so easy to follow.

Chapter 24: Rita Skeeter's Scoop

"Say Harry," Cedric asked Harry at lunch the next day. "Have you worked out the clue in the egg, yet?"

"Well, it screams like a banshee," Harry replied with a helpless shrug. He was feeling much too tired to care today.

"Try listening to it under water," Cedric suggested and then went on to the Hufflepuff table.

Listen to it under water? How should he even do that? There wasn't much time to think about it as their next class was Care for Magical Creatures and getting there through the deep snow took quite a bit longer than it did in warm summer weather. And that was without even counting the time they needed to change into their winter boots and cloaks.

To Harry's surprise Professor Hagrid wasn't there, though, and they had a quite pleasant lesson about unicorns from a Professor they had never seen before.

"I wonder where Professor Hagrid got to, though," Hermione said on the way back to the castle.

"Probably has the flu or something," Ron suggested.

"Then he'd have gone to Madam Pomfrey for pepper-up potion," Hermione reminded him. "And there'd not have been any need for a replacement."

It wasn't until they returned to the common room after dinner that the mystery was cleared up.

"Have you heard, Harry?" George asked him as he was squeezing past the table on which the twins had spread out their Charms homework. "Rita Skeeter has written an article about Hagrid."

"She claims his mother was a really evil giantess," Frederic added. "Worked for Him-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and killed lots of wizards."

"Yes, but she also says Professor Hagrid is really evil, too," George interjected hastily. "So I'm not sure we can believe any of it."

"Well, he sure likes evil pets," Neville commented. "I'm glad we don't have to put up with his screwts anymore if he's really been fired."

Harry felt a little sorry for Hagrid getting fired because of a stupid article by that stupid Rita Skeeter, but there was nothing he could do about that and he needed to listen to his golden egg under water, so he went on upstairs and took it into the shower with him.

Somehow the noise sounded even worse in the tiled bathroom and the only effect harry actually achieved was a lot of complaints from the inhabitants of the neighbouring dorms as the sound apparently travelled through the pipes just like the basilisk once had.

"Well, so much for listening to it under water," Harry said to his dorm mates. "Maybe Cedric's egg has a different clue?"

"Or maybe he just tricked you," Seamus said.

"Or maybe he meant to say that he'd tried and that it sounds even worth and not that it helps," Ron suggested.

"Or maybe he didn't mean the shower at all," Neville said. "I mean, it's wet, but not really under water. Maybe you have to properly dunk it in the lake or somewhere?"

The lake was freezing cold where it wasn't actually frozen, though and the bathroom sink wasn't deep enough to fully submerge the egg. Partial submersion did change the sound but not improve it much.

"I'll have to try to steal a bucket from Mr. Filch," Harry decided with a sigh.

That wasn't as easy as it sounded, though, since Harry didn't want to be caught and Mr. Filch rarely left his buckets standing around unattended where certain students might come by and put some newly developed trick substance in it.

So by the time the next Hogsmeade weekend rolled around Harry still hadn't solved the mystery. He considered staying at the institute to make another attempt, but when he learned that the Caretaker was going to use the calmer day to inspect and repair the furniture in the Great Hall he decided that it was hopeless and accompanied his classmates after all.

The Three Broomsticks was quite busy when the Gryffindor fourth years arrived there, but Ludo Bagman who had apparently been vehemently discussing something with a group of goblins nevertheless spotted Harry and asked him for a private conversation.

"Have you had any luck with the egg?" he asked concernedly.

"Well, I am trying to get hold of a bucket so I can open it under water," Harry admitted. "But they are hard to find."

"Bucket?" Mr. Bagman said. "Why that will never do. You have to put your head under water along with the egg. Or at least your ears. Try it in the bathtub."

"But we don't have a bathtub in the dorms!" Harry exclaimed.

Wherever could he find one?

Unfortunately Mr. Bagman was of no further help as just then Frederick and George spotted him and dragged him away to talk about some 'business matter'.

No sooner had they left than Rita Skeeter appeared and wanted to know what he had told Harry.

"Oh nothing," Harry said hastily. He still remembered what she'd twisted his and Hagrid's interviews into. "He just congratulated me on the dragon task and then went off to have a drink."

He hoped poor Mr. Bagman's article would be less horrible than his own.

At least the next day it turned out that Professor Hagrid hadn't been fired after all. He returned to his work as did the screwts much to Neville's disappointment.


	25. Chapter 25

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Even his map can't help Harry ... or can it?

Chapter 25: The Egg and the Eye

"Maybe there's a way to conjure a bathtub," Hermione said. "Or transfigure it. I'll have to look it up in the library."

"And where would you do it?" Draco asked her. "I don't know about your bathrooms, but ours don't have enough room and the prefects will forbid you to do it anywhere else, either because it's indecent or because splashing water will ruin the furniture."

"If only Percy were still here," Ron sighed. "He'd have been sure to let you use the prefects' bathroom if we'd asked him nicely."

"The prefects' bathroom has a bathtub?" Harry asked excitedly.

"I think so," Ron replied cautiously " That is I think Percy mentioned it once."

So Harry went and asked George and Frederick.

"Why yes, it does," Frederick confirmed. "A really big one, too."

"But we only got in there once," George confided. "It has a password that changes every month or so."

At first Harry was disappointed. Then he considered asking one of the prefects, but he didn't really know any of the current ones and doubted that he could convince them to break the rules for him.

On the other hand he owned an invisibility cloak and a magical map of the institute that had given him the password to get into the secret tunnel that led into Honeydukes.

So that night Harry took both as well as the egg and snuck to the prefects' bathroom, but no matter how hard he tried the map didn't seem to know the password any more than he did. Apparently its makers had known the one for the tunnel and taught it to their map. They must also have known of the bathtub then, though, because the map actually showed it to him when he asked it to zoom in on the room. Maybe just like Frederick and George they had had the password once, but it had been changed long since.

Harry sighed disappointedly and zoomed out again to check whether the way back to Gryffindor tower was clear. Apparently everybody was in bed except for ... Bartemius Crouch in Professor Snape's office?

At first Harry shrugged it off. Why shouldn't Mr. Crouch be friends with Professor Snape and visit him? There was no curfew for adults.

But if they were friends, why was Professor Snape in his bedroom while Mr. Crouch was visiting him in his office? Shouldn't they both be in his sitting room together?

That was what friends did when they visited, wasn't it? Sit in the sitting room and talk?

Besides, if what Ron had told him the morning after the Yule ball was true Mr. Crouch was too sick to work and Percy had taken over all his duties. Surely then he couldn't be well enough to visit friends either?

Harry decided to investigate. Under the invisibility cloak Mr. Crouch would never be able to see him after all, so it had to be perfectly safe.

Or so he thought until he tripped into a trick step on the stairs and dropped his egg which promptly fell open and started screaming so loudly that it woke up Mr. Filch and Professor Snape.

Harry already thought that he'd lost his unsolved clue to Mr. Filch who thought that it had been dropped there by Peeves, but then luckily Professor Moody arrived and managed to retrieve the egg and map and chase off Mr. Filch and Professor Snape even though the one was obsessed with catching Peeves and the other furious about the intruder in his office.

"That is a very nice map you've got there Harry," the Professor remarked as he freed the boy from the hole in the stairs. "Would you lend it to me for a while?"

Harry didn't like to part with his map, but he was out after curfew and Professor Moody had just rescued him. Not to mention that Harry still needed a bathtub.

"How about an exchange," he suggested. "I lend you the map and you let me use your bathtub?" He crossed his fingers hoping that Professor Moody had such a thing. "It seems that I need to open the egg in one."

The professor agreed quite readily assuring Harry once again that he was always willing to help him along so he'd survive the tournament.


	26. Chapter 26

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Chapter 26: The Second Task

The next day after his last class Harry took his egg to Professor Moody's room. The Professor's bathtub was old and at first Harry thought he would have to heat water over the fire and pour it in, but the Professor laughed at him, filled the tub with a spell that was apparently called aquamenti and then cast a warming spell on it.

"There you go," he said. "Hop in."

So Harry took off his clothes and got into the tub. Professor Moody handed him the egg and he let himself sink into the tub until both ears and the egg were underwater. Finding room to open it without any part resurfacing took him a moment, but then he finally heard the egg sing!

He had to listen to the song several times and the water had turned cold by the time he could recite the whole to Professor Moody.

"Do you know what language it is that turns into English under water?" the Professor asked him.

Harry shook his head.

"I'll have to ask Hermione," he decided. "She probably does."

"It's Mermish," the Professor volunteered "As she will surely tell you, the language of the Merpeople who live at the bottom of the lake."

"Lake?!" Harry yelped. "I have to get to the bottom of the lake? But I can't dive that far!"

They had had a few basic swimming lessons at the primary institute, of course, but that had only been so they'd be able to save themselves if they fell into a body of water someday, not so they could retrieve something from the bottom.

"It is too deep for diving," the Professor agreed "You need a way to breathe under water. But I have already told you more than I should. Ask your classmates. I'm sure one of them knows."

But neither Ron nor Hermione had any idea other than to search every book in the library - of which there were way too many, of course.

So they only searched the most likely books.

"I could try asking Professor Snape," Draco offered when Harry turned to him. "But he'll probably guess why again."

"Professor Moody was sure my classmates would know," Harry said. "Maybe it's something we're supposed to learn this year, but haven't got to yet?"

"Then he'd have said you should know and to try to remember," Hermione said. "And I already read all our books to the end. There's nothing in there."

"It might be an elective," Draco suggested. "Then only those of us who take it would be expected to know."

"Then it would have to be either Divination or Muggle Studies," Hermione pointed out. "I have read everything else."

"There are no spells in Divination," Ron said with a snort. "There's scrying in a bowl of water of course, but not under water."

"And no magic at all in Muggle Studies," Hermione added. "It's all about how Muggles live without magic."

"Maybe Professor Moody mistook the year?" Draco suggested. "Let's ask some older students."

So that evening Harry went and asked George and Frederick.

"Surviving under water?" Frederick asked.

"Transfiguring yourself into a fish would work," George said.

"Charming a water-tight bubble around you," Frederick added.

"We could invent a sweet that lets you breathe water," George offered. "For a price."

"How m..." Harry started, but was interrupted by Neville.

"Don't be stupid, Harry," the boy called. "They are trying to cheat you. You don't need a specially developed sweet when gillyweed has just the same effect."

"But where am I going to get gillyweed?"

"We could steel you some from Professor Snape's office," Frederick offered. "For a price."

For a moment Harry was tempted to accept. If only he'd had his map he'd have taken his invisibility cloak and stolen the gillyweed himself, but now that he'd lent it to Professor Moody he was too afraid of being caught.

"If you use it in the task, Professor Snape will know that you stole it," Hermione warned him.

"Alright," Harry decided. "Then Iâ€™ll just go and tell him."

And after the next Potions lesson Harry went up to the Professor and asked him for some gillyweed.

"Gillyweed?" Professor Snape asked sounding incredulous.

Harry nodded earnestly.

"For the second task," he explained. "So I don't drown. I'm not old enough to buy it and you wouldn't want me to steal it, would you?"

"Very well," Professor Snape said. "But only just enough for use in the task. You will not get a second one, understood?"

Harry nodded beaming widely. One was all he needed.

Thus Harry did indeed manage to dive to the bottom of the lake during the task. It wasn't easy to find the Merpeople, though and Harry was quite frantic that he might be running out of time when he finally reached the tied up hostages.

Horrified he stared at the unmoving bodies of Cho, Hermione, Parvati and Roger. What was he supposed to do? He couldn't save them all!

Of course he didn't care about Roger, but Hermione was one of his best friends, the person he'd known longest in all the world!

And Cho? How could he leave beautiful, sweet Cho to die? And Parvati was his classmate, though he wasn't nearly as close to her as to Hermione.

Well, he had two hands. He swam towards Hermione, but then the Merpeople attacked him. Luckily Harry soon discovered that he could drive them off by casting streams of boiling water.

Another five to ten minutes were lost untying Hermione and Cho. Then Harry grabbed them by their collars and started pushing towards the surface.

As he struggled along a shark-headded monster passed him carrying away Roger. Harry was very glad that it already had a victim and didn't show any interest in him or his charges. He did feel a touch of pity for Roger, but more relief that the monster hadn't gotten one of the girls.

At least he did feel that way until he finally reached the shore again and saw Roger and Parvati already there. As were all the other champions.

The Professors helped him, Cho and Hermione out of the water and gave them into Madam Pomfrey's care.

"Well," he heard Professor Dumbledore say. "All the hostages have been rescued, but only one within the time limit and none by the right champion."

"I would have rescued Cho, if I could," Cedric defended himself. "But when I arrived there were only Roger and the Indian girl left, so I decided to be a gentleman and rescue the girl."

"And I found only one hostage, so I took him," Victor added.

"I failed!" Fleur sobbed. "I failed!"

It was only then that Harry realised that they had each been supposed to rescue their Yule ball date!

In the end the judges agreed on a fixed number of points to be awarded for the magic used to survive under water, one for bringing back a hostage and one for being within the time limit.

To Harry's surprise that put him in shared first place wit Cedric even though he had returned last. The second hostage made up for being outside the time limit!


	27. Chapter 27

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Professor Karkaroff does something strange, but luckily there's somebody who can explain it.

Chapter 27: Padfoot Returns

Harry was very relieved to have passed the second task so well and as if that hadn't been enough good news the next morning he received a letter from his secret uncle Sirius announcing that he had the next Hogsmeade weekend off and 'might just happen to spend it doing some shopping in Hogsmeade'.

"But isn't he forbidden from coming to the institute?" Ron asked a little worriedly. "Won't he get into trouble?"

"That's why he's going shopping in Hogsmeade," Hermione explained to him. "Hogsmeade isn't on the institute grounds and nobody can forbid him to buy something in a shop there."

Another person that was also barred from Hogwarts' grounds seemed to have a lot fewer scruples, though. Rita Skeeter had written a short note on the second task and its results and a long article according to which Hermione had thrown Harry over for Victor.

"Girlfriend?" Harry commented incredulously. "But Hermione never was my girlfriend. I've never had a girlfriend. What would I even do with one?"

"Walk about hand in hand with her and kiss her," Ron supplied. "That's what the people who have them do."

"Well, I don't even want to do that with Hermione. Victor's welcome to, if he likes it."

"Why, what's wrong with Hermione?" Ron demanded.

"Nothing," Hermione herself snapped. "It's just that Harry would rather have Cho. I'm just his friend."

Harry blushed, but Hermione didn't even look his way.

"What's much more interesting than that stupid concocted love story is how Rita Skeeter is able to quote things Victor said to me in private and on Hogwarts grounds exactly. Who could have told her? It wasn't me and I doubt that it was Victor."

Their conversation was interrupted by Professor Snape's arrival at that point and for a while they were much too busy working on their potions to think of anything else.

Then however, Professor Karkaroff burst into the classroom insisting that he had to talk to Professor Snape but that he kept avoiding him.

Unfortunately the Potions Professor refused to talk in front of the students so there wasn't much of a show, though Karkaroff did hover around in the classroom until the end of the lesson. As he left afterwards Harry cast one more glance back over his shoulder and saw Professor Karkaroff show Professor Snape something on his left forearm.

"How weird," Harry said and when they met his secret uncle in the Three Broomsticks that evening that was the very first thing he told him.

Uncle Sirius didn't know what to make of it either, however.

"It might be that Karkaroff isn't quite in his right mind, though," he said. "He is pretty deep into the dark arts - even used to be a Death Eater - and that can have all sorts of side-effects."

"He used to be a Death Eater?" Draco yelped. "And they let him run an institute?"

"He's reformed, or so they say," Uncle Sirius explained. "Turned informant after You-Know-Who's fall. But of course the Ministry is keeping a good eye on him while he's in the country. Maybe itâ€™s the events at the World Cup that are getting to him. It has started all sorts of odd rumours in the dark arts scene down to an impending return of the Dark Lord. Of course those would frighten Karkaroff. You-Know-Who wasn't one to treat traitors nicely."

"You mean he'd kill Professor Karkaroff?" Harry asked softly.

Sirius nodded.

"I don't know why he'd run to Sni... Snape, though. Of course he has some history with the dark arts as well, but ... well, Hogwarts isn't Durmstrang and Albus Dumbledore would never trust an ex Death Eater the way he trusts Snape. Then again, maybe Snape still knows people in that scene and Karkaroff thought he might have heard something more than he had. He probably doesn't know that many people here in Britain."

"So that's why Mr. Crouch searched Professor Snape's office," Hermione said. "He was trying to find a clue about those contacts."

"But Mr. Crouch isn't an Auror," Ron said. "He's the head of the department of international cooperation."

"He used to be head of the Aurors, though," Sirius told them. "Still was back when James and I joined. He was quite a hard-liner, wouldn't have batted an eye at me breaking your leg to get at Peter, much less banished me from working at Hogwarts. I think he actually preferred it when we brought our men in dead rather than alive. Of course that was during the war. Nowadays we aren't allowed to kill except in self-defence."

"So why did he switch departments?" Hermione asked. "The positions are equal, aren't they? It wasn't a promotion?"

"He didn't switch, he was transferred," Sirius explained. "There was quite a bit of a scandal after his own son was caught attacking the Longbottoms along with the Lestranges. Crouch did all he could to show that he wasn't partial during the trial and sent the boy straight to Azkaban, but, well, he went a bit too far overboard in the opposite direction and people started complaining that he was heartless and cruel and hadn't given the boy a fair chance, so what could anyone else hope for from him? It quite destroyed all his ambitions to become Minister. The man had always lived for his career, you see. It was never good enough for him just to be useful, he wanted to be powerful, to have power over others. Well, those complaints got even louder when his son died not long after being sent to Azkaban and Crouch didn't even claim the body for burial The Minister finally relented and agreed that such a man might not be best suited for a position in the field of justice and had him transferred to international cooperation I don't think he ever got over it."

"So you don't think that he searched Professor Snape's office at the Ministry's orders?" Hermione asked.

"That isn't likely. They have at least one Auror at or near Hogwarts to keep an eye on Karkaroff, so if they wanted Snape checked out they could use him. There's no need to involve an unreliable outsider."

"Besides, Crouch has told the Ministry that he's sick," Ron added. "He's on an extended sick lave and Percy has taken over most of his duties."

"Isn't Percy much too young to head a department?" Draco asked.

Ron shrugged.

"Well, maybe he meant only the representation of the department at the tournament," he suggested. "After all Mr. Bagman is here as well. He's a head of department, too."

"And he's also suspicious," Hermione said. "He's been trying to help Harry, but not Cedric."

But uncle Sirius knew nothing about Mr. Bagman except that he had once been a successful beater.


	28. Chapter 28

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Mr. Crouch mysteriously reappears and re-disappears.

Chapter 28: The Madness of Mr. Crouch

"We need to find out more about Mr. Bagman," Hermione declared.

"From whom?" Ron asked. "We don't know anybody who knows him."

"But we have Mr. Crouch's house-elf here at the institute," Draco announced. "We can ask her."

"About Mr. Bagman?" Hermione asked doubtfully.

"She did say something about him being bad once," Harry remembered.

"No, about Mr. Crouch," Draco said. "He is very suspicious claiming to be sick and then showing up in Professor Snape's office."

So they went down into the kitchens to find Winky, but the house-elf was in a very bad state. She was so drunk on butter-beer that they could hardly understand her and passed out long before they even got around to mentioning Mr. Bagman. All they really learned was that Winky had not seen or heard from her beloved master since he had fired her.

They decided to come back the next day and ask about Mr. Bagman, but then a terrible accident at breakfast changed their plans.

Hermione had been receiving nasty letters ever since Rita Skeeter had written her weird article about her, Harry and Victor, but this time a letter filled with undiluted bubbotubber pus had escaped the institute's mail scan and Hermione got it all over her hands.

She missed most of Care for Magical Creatures while getting them treated in the hospital wing. Missing one of Professor Hagrid's lessons was never serious as he was always happy to recap the important stuff for an interested student - or anyone who asked really - but nevertheless Hermione was furious and swore that she would get revenge on Rita Skeeter.

Since that project took up all her spare time and the amount of homework they got increased suddenly due to the teachers realising that the end of the school year was approaching, the children's research into Harry's mysterious inclusion in the Triwizard Tournament came to a standstill.

Only when Harry was told to meet Mr. Bagman and his fellow champions on the Quidditch pitch did he realise how close ahead the third task was already looming.

All that happened that evening, though, was that Mr. Bagman told them that they would have to navigate the maze that was already growing there and that it would be filled with obstacles such as spells and monsters.

Harry supposed that he wouldn't get far, but at least he'd be given a way to surrender and signal for rescue this time. He could do that.

As he was about to return to the castle, though, Victor approached him to ask for clarification of the rumours Rita Skeeter had started about Harry and Hermione.

"Oh, that's nothing," he assured the older boy as he had so many curious institute-mates. "That's just Rita Skeeter. She makes things up all the time."

"She is nasty," Victor agreed and started walking into the forest.

"No, not in there," Harry exclaimed hastily. "We're forbidden. There are dangerous things in there werewolves and such."

"Ah, you have werewolves, too?" Victor asked. "We have many at home. Vampires, too. They come from Romania. That is not so far from Bulgaria."

"Oh, I've never heard about any vampires in the forbidden forest, but last year ... What was that?"

They both stared in the direction a strange sound had come from. A sound as if something big were breaking through the undergrowth. Victor was the first to pull his wand.

"Don't worry," he whispered to Harry. "I know good spells for fighting vampires."

Harry glanced up at the moon. It wasn't full so there was no danger of werewolves.

"Wait, it might be a centaur or unicorn. Don't cast anything until you're sure it's dangerous."

But what came stumbling out of the forest was definitely no centaur or unicorn. It looked like a man.

"Vampire?" Harry asked nervously.

Victor cast a spell at the stranger, but nothing happened.

"No. Maybe one of the werewolves? He is hurt?"

But when Harry cautiously approached the man he recognised him as Mr. Crouch. He seemed to be very confused, talking with trees one moment and then grabbing Harry and demanding that he fetch Professor Dumbledore right away.

So Harry left Victor with him and went to fetch the headmaster. It took him a while to find him as he didn't have the password for his office and by the time they reached the place where he'd left Mr. Crouch and Victor the man was gone and Victor lay unconscious on the floor. Apparently Mr. Crouch's madness was worse than Harry had thought and he was quite dangerous. Harry and Victor were sent back indoors while the Professors searched the forest.


	29. Chapter 29

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Harry has a vision.

Chapter 29: The Dream

It was quite a mystery. No matter what theory Harry and his friends came up with nothing could explain Mr. Crouch's disappearance.

"Let's tell Auror Black," Hermione said finally. "This is his area of expertise. He probably sees cases like this all the time."

So Harry wrote down the most detailed account he could manage and sent it off with his owl Hedwig. She'd only just gone when Frederick and George appeared to ask Harry to lend her to them so they could send a letter they were oddly nervous about. Harry offered to mail it for them the moment Hedwig returned, but in the end they settled for Ron's tiny Pigwidgeon instead.

Even Professor Moody with the Marauders' Map and his magical eye appeared to have had no luck in his search for Mr. Crouch, but he told Harry not to continue to puzzle over it.

"You have to focus on the third task," he reminded him. "It's the last one. After that you'll be safe. Leave Crouch to the Aurors."

This thought was echoed by Harry's secret uncle Sirius whose reply arrived the next morning telling him that the Auror department was on the job, that an excellent team of his colleagues had already been sent to examine the crime scene and he'd added a list of spells Harry should practise for the third task.

That was more than enough to keep Harry busy until the task. Several of those spells had to be more than a little too advanced for a fourth year as Harry's best efforts brought no result whatsoever.

Maybe it was all that extra spell practise that caused Harry to fall asleep during a Divination lesson and have a terrible nightmare of Him-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named torturing Peter Pettigrew for some blunder that had luckily been repaired by somebody dying.

Harry woke up screaming in pain from his dream, which quite excited Professor Trellawney. All her efforts to make Harry see more clearly were in vain however. Only his scar kept hurting so badly that Harry went straight to the hospital wing for a headache potion as soon as the lesson was over.

"I'm afraid there's nothing I can do about this," Madame Pomfrey said after he had told her the whole story. "Curse scars are notoriously resistant to treatment."

"Well, it is already much better than it was right after the vision," Harry said bravely.

"Please wait until I have flooed the headmaster, though," the nurse continued. "I think he ought to hear your vision."


	30. Chapter 30

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Harry lands in a place for adults!

Chapter 30: The Pensieve

"I can't reach the headmaster," Madam Pomfrey told Harry. "He must have gone to show the Aurors ... the grounds."

"Oh, are they looking for Mr. Crouch?" Harry asked excitedly.

"Of course. And don't you worry, they'll find him in no time at all," Madam Pomfrey assured him. "Then they'll take him to St. Mungo's where the mind healers can help him. But come along now, Harry. I'll take you to the headmaster's office. You can wait for him there and tell him about your vision right away."

Harry followed her to the office obediently and sat in the chair she told him to wait in. But then she left and he was all alone with nothing to do. Surely it would do no harm to get up and look at all the strange little magical devices Professor Dumbledore kept here. He wouldn't do them any damage, if he didn't even touch them. All he'd do was look.

He got up and watched a little wheel spin rapidly and a green sphere float up and down in the air. And then there was a bowl with colourful stuff swirling inside! How pretty!

Harry bent over it and suddenly he was falling, but instead of splashing face-first into the liquid he dropped into some other place.

Harry took a look around and screamed with terror. He was in a huge room full of angry-looking adults. And now he'd interrupted them by screaming. He pressed his hands over his mouth to stop himself from making any more noise in a place for adults, but nobody was looking at him. They were all focussing on ... Igor Karkaroff and Mr. Crouch. But how could that be? Mr. Crouch was supposed to be missing and sick! How could he be here questioning headmaster Karkaroff about Death Eaters?

And Professor Dumbledore was there as well! He had been sitting right next to Harry the whole time, but Harry only noticed him when he got up to explain that Professor Snape had once been a Death Eater, but had changed his mind and become a spy.

Before Harry could figure out what was going on he was transported to another place again ... or actually it looked much the same, but now Ludo Bagman was in Professor Karkaroff's place and he looked much younger and fitter all of my sudden!

The mood of the people around him was much happier now, though. They were joking and laughing all through Mr. Bagman confessing to having mistaken the Death Eaters for Aurors and helping them.

Harry began to relax and feel better, though he was beginning to suspect that he'd travelled back in time and was apparently now in the period right after You-Know-Who's downfall. What should he do, if he couldn't get back?

But then there was another change and he had to watch Mr. Crouch sentence his frightened, screaming son to life in Azkaban. He was quite relieved when the Professor Dumbledore from his time showed up and pulled him back into the future and even more relieved when the headmaster believed him when he explained that he had fallen into the bowl by accident and didn't punish him.

He dutifully told all he knew about his vision only leaving out that he had been asleep when he'd had it. After what he'd already forgiven him just now Professor Dumbledore didn't need to know that Harry had fallen asleep during a lesson as well.


	31. Chapter 31

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Nobody's there to cheer Harry on at the third task ... or watch him fail.

Chapter 31: The Third Task

"So Mr. Bagman has a history with the Death Eaters as well," Hermione said after Harry told his friends all about his fall into the bowl.

"Yes, but he didn't know they were Death Eaters," Harry reminded her. "He thought they were Aurors."

"Or so he said when on trial," Hermione said. "He might have been lying."

"He's too stupid to lie," Ron said dismissively.

"That's what our teachers think of Harry," Draco countered. "And Mr. Bagman could have had help planning his defence. He probably knew he was going to be put on trial so he could have asked the Death Eaters what to say."

Both Professor Moody and his secret uncle Sirius kept telling Harry that he should stop researching his enemy and focus on preparing for the rapidly approaching third task and so Harry spent most of his spare time until the day of the task practising spells.

The morning of the big day brought yet another article by Rita Skeeter discussing Harry's vision in Divination class as an attack indicating madness. The description of the event was suspiciously accurate, though.

"But how could she know?" Hermione asked the paper. "There hasn't been a Hogsmeade weekend since then and she isn't allowed on the grounds. None of our classmates are old enough to know their parents, yet, so they can't have written them a description."

"So then one of them wrote to Rita Skeeter," Ron suggested. "We write to Sirius Black all the time and nobody has ever stopped us."

"Either that or ... Of course! That way she'd be able to overhear everything!" Hermione exclaimed and ran off to the library even though it was the fourth years' exam day!

Since Harry as a champion was exempted from exams he returned to the common room to practise some more. Through the window he could see the other champions walk around with adult wizards he had never seen before - their parents Harry assumed based on something he had overheard Professor McGonagall say. They were probably here to watch the third task.

Harry's parents weren't there of course. He wasn't allowed to know them yet after all.

After lunch they were summoned to the maze, too early for his classmates to cheer Harry on as they were still taking their afternoon exams. It made Harry feel awfully lonely and abandoned as he entered the maze.

For a long time nothing at all happened and when it finally did it was only Cedric who passed him after only just escaping a blast-ended screwt.

A little later Harry encountered a dementor, but his dog patronus took care of it easily. With increased confidence Harry went on. Maybe he could win this after all!

But then he walked into a strange mist and found himself hanging upside down.

He was still wondering what to do when he heard a girl's voice screaming. Fleur!

But Harry was stuck and could not help her. He needed help himself.

The thought of giving up was painful, but on the other hand Fleur was probably out of the game as well and Harry was the youngest and an unwilling contender. If he gave up it would all be over and he'd be safe, both from the tournament and from whoever had entered him in it to kill him.

Reluctantly Harry raised his wand and shot off the red sparks that would summon help.

It took what seemed like hours, but then the huge shape of Professor Hagrid appeared before him.

"Ah, stuck in the mist of illusion, Harry?" the Professor said sounding slightly amused. "Ah well, there's no shame in that for a fourth year, I guess. You haven't learned about it yet. Give me your hand and close your eyes."

Harry did and with a single pull Hagrid freed him from his predicament. Then he led him back outside to where Fleur was already reporting to the judges.

"He attacked me from behind," she was saying. "But I could swear that it wasn't one of the other champions. It was the voice of an adult wizard. He tried to imperio me, but I have learned how to fight that curse. I turned around to defend myself, but he must have realised that his spell had failed. He cast a stunner at me and fled before I could see his face. I dodged it only just and then signalled for help so I could report him."

Professor Dumbledore nodded uncharacteristically seriously.

"And you, Harry, were you attacked as well?" he asked.

"No," Harry admitted. "I got stuck at one of the obstacles."

"Ah well, you competed very admirably considering your age," the headmaster told him. "It really could ..."

He was interrupted by horrible screams from the maze.

"What's that?" Minister Fudge asked sounding frightened. "Surely that isn't supposed to happen?"


	32. Chapter 32

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Harry does not reach the cup, so what about Voldemort's restoration ritual?

Chapter 32: Flesh, Blood and Bone

The adults all rushed towards the maze - well, all except the Minister, who followed behind them a little more slowly and dignifiedly - leaving Harry and Fleur alone in front of the abandoned judges' desk. Harry followed them with his eyes as they ran around trying to determine where exactly the screams had come from. He might actually have gone after them when they all reassembled at a specific point and Professor McGonagall transfigured an opening into the hedge to let them enter, but he was too tired after his ordeal in the maze and all the excitement and nervousness over the last few days.

He hadn't slept well lately. Nightmares of the monsters that he might have to deal with and of being attacked by Death Eaters had woken him up several times during the nights. Now that his part in the tournament was finally over it all caught up with him and he sat down in the grass to rest while the teachers rescued Cedric or Victor from whoever was attacking the champions.

Fleur gave him a disapproving look and appropriated one of the judges' chairs. Harry considered reminding her that it belonged to an adult and they probably were not supposed to touch it, but he felt too tired and Fleur probably knew to get up and return it the moment the adults reappeared. If she got punished anyway it wasn't his problem.

There was nothing more to see now that the adults had disappeared into the maze. This task really was a boring event for spectators, Harry thought vaguely before his eyes slid shut and he nodded off.

Victor Krumm appeared in a graveyard with the Triwizard Cup in his hands. He didn't seem at all surprised by his surroundings but just stood there waiting. Even when another figure approached him he didn't react at all.

A terrible pain shot through Harry's scar when a high, unnatural voice began to speak.

"What's this?" it demanded. "That cannot be the right boy. He should be younger."

"No, Master," the figure said in an unpleasantly whiny, but natural voice and with a start Harry recognised Peter Pettigrew. "This is the Quidditch player, the Durmstrang champion. Apparently he managed to get to the cup first. Your agent has failed to deliver little Harry after all."

"Impossible. He was supposed to put that one under imperius to ensure that he didn't win," the high voice protested.

"And he does appear to be under imperius," Peter Pettigrew agreed. "But he is still here and Harry is not. The portkey has been activated and there is no way to get the other child here in time. Will you not reconsider and use this one, Master? It will be months before the stars will be in a suitable position for the ritual again and any wizard will do for the enemy."

"It will not be as strong," the high voice wailed. "All my plans! Wasted! All the preparations in vain! I will make him pay for his incompetence! Oh yes, he will pay."

"It does not have to be all in vain," Peter Pettigrew urged. "You will need a better body than this to punish him properly. Let us perform the ritual after all. Let us use this boy. He must be strong in magic to have been chosen as a champion."

"Very well," the high voice finally agreed. "Prepare the cauldron then."

And Harry had to watch in helpless horror as Peter Pettigrew brewed a potion that contained a human bone, Victor's blood and Peter's own right hand and then threw the strange bundle he'd brought when he'd first arrived into it.

Harry had to watch as both Victor and Peter stood there bleeding as the cauldron bubbled. Peter was cradling his hand and whimpering in pain as he waited, but Victor just stood where Peter had left him, the only difference being that he was no longer holding the Triwizard Cup, because Pettigrew had taken it away and dropped it on the ground next to him when he'd cut Victor's arm to collect the blood.

How long could one bleed like this without being bandaged or receiving a healing potion?

Before Victor could faint from blood-loss however, Lord Voldemort rose from the cauldron fully restored to a human form.


	33. Chapter 33

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Harry reports his vision, but Professor Karkaroff has other problems.

Chapter 33: The Death Eaters

Harry woke up with a scream.

"Harry? Harry! Eeet is me, Fleur! Do you recognise me?"

"Fleur?"

Yes, it was indeed the French champion that was bending over him and he was at Hogwarts Institute, not in a graveyard.

"I tried to wake you sooner, but I could not," Fleur told him. "It was like you were in a trance."

Harry shuddered.

"A vision," he realised. "I just had another vision, but then ... oh no, Fleur, it was You-Know-Who! He's back and he has Victor. He cut his arm and took blood and Victor just stood there and didn't even realise what was happening."

"It was a dream. Surely it was just a dream."

"I don't know. Iâ€™ve had such a dream before and that was supposed to have been a true vision. The headmaster said to tell him right away, if it ever happened again" Harry sat up to look for Professor Dumbledore. "Where is he?"

"There," Fleur pointed at a group of adults. "They are rescuing Cedric. Your institute's nurse just came. It must have been one of the monsters, I'm sure. Probably one of those horrible screwts."

"I must go and tell him."

Fleur gave Harry a hand up and they walked over to the adults, but found that they were not actually crowding around Cedric and Madame Pomfrey as Harry had assumed based on Fleur's information. In fact he could see Madam Pomfrey quite a bit away levitating a stretcher towards the castle.

What was keeping the Professors from returning to their judging duties appeared to be Headmaster Karkaroff who was cradling one arm while frantically pulling at Professor Snape's robes.

"I'm telling you it's him," he shrieked his eyes as wide and round as Mr Crouch's had been when Harry had last seen him. "He's back! He's calling! Don't you feel the pain?"

"Calm down, Igor," Professor Snape said coldly, just the way he did when speaking to a hysterical first year that had just exploded her first cauldron. "Obviously you cannot go to him, so you must bear the pain."

"But it hurts so!" Headmaster Karkaroff wailed. "And he'll come after me! He'll come and kill us all, Severus!"

"Whatever is he talking about?" Minister Fudge demanded. "Why, I believe he must be completely mad. I understand that his student's actions must have come as a shock to him, but this is quite an overreaction."

"The Dark Mark," Professor Dumbledore explained unusually seriously. "Every Death Eater had it tattooed into his left forearm and Voldemort would call them to meetings using those marks. The procedure is quite painful, I have been told."

For some reason he was looking at Professor Snape rather than the Minister as he spoke. Snape returned the look with cold, expressionless eyes.

"Oh, but really Karkaroff," the Minister scoffed. "I admit that it is quite terrible that one of your students is not only capable of casting cruciatus, but also willing to use it just to win a game, but that does not mean that You-Know-Who has suddenly risen from the dead. The boy must have fallen under the influence of some dark wizard. I recommend that you have it investigated thoroughly to make sure that the rest of your students are safe, but most likely it did not happen at the institute or there would have been rumours among the students. You let this boy outside a lot, didn't you? No doubt you had the best of intentions letting him use his Quidditch talent to the best effect, but this brought him into company of all sorts of adult wizards without proper supervision. Really, you should have prevented him having contact with fans. And were his team-mates' and trainer's backgrounds and political opinions checked thoroughly enough? It is so very easy for a celebrated star to mislead an impressionable child eager to follow in his footsteps. Still, I doubt that we are about to see the rise of another Dark Lord. Surely it is merely ..."

"It is You-know-Who, not a new Dark Lord," Harry told him. "I just saw him in a vision. He has a new body. He abducted Victor and took his blood. And Victor just stood there and didn't even notice!"

Karkaroff whimpered, but Professor Snape forcefully extracted his robe from the Durmstrang headmaster's grip.

"Don't," Karkaroff wailed. "We must flee!"

"Then flee you miserable coward," Professor Snape snapped and took Harry by the shoulders. "Now do tell us again and this time in the proper order. You had a vision?"

Harry nodded.

"When, where and how did it start?"

And so Harry started to recount everything he'd seen in his vision with the help of Professor Snape's sharp and detailed questions.

"Under imperius," Professor Dumbledore said right away when he described Victor's strange lack of reactions. "And you actually saw him arrive by portkey, Harry? You are quite sure of that?"

Harry nodded.

"Yes, he came right at the beginning. It was the first thing that happened."

"And he was acting like that from the start?" the headmaster pushed. "He didn't look around right after he appeared and then suddenly stiffen and lose interest?"

"No, he was like that from the start. He arrived and just stood there looking at nothing."

"Then he must have been put under imperius before he touched the portkey," the headmaster said to Professor Snape. "That most likely means that he was acting under the influence of the spell when he attacked Cedric."

"You mean to say he was imperiused on Hogwarts grounds?" Professor Moody demanded.

"He must have been, if Harry's description is correct," Professor Dumbledore confirmed. "We will have to discover the culprit and quickly. It can't have been Pettigrew since he was waiting for him at the graveyard."

But then he let Harry go on with his description of the place and events. Only when they reached the 'bone of the father' part did the headmaster interrupt again.

"The graveyard of Little Hangleton," he declared. "I know where that is. Hurry, we must save Victor if we can."

He turned hurrying away in the direction of the main gate despite Minister Fudge's protests that he couldn't just abandon his charges purely on the strength of one little boy's nightmare. Madame Maxime and most of the professors followed him along with several wizards in Auror robes one of whom, much to Harry's surprise, looked suspiciously like Auror Potter.


	34. Chapter 34

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Harry figures out who the Death Eater at Hogwarts must be. It's pretty obvious all things considered. ;)

Chapter 34: Priori Incantatem

For a while Harry just stood there waiting for instructions, but none of the adults paid him any more attention, nor did the headmaster and those who had gone with him return.

When he realised that he wasn't going to get any instructions Harry looked around for help and noticed Fleur still standing behind him. He turned to her.

"What do we do now?" he asked her softly.

"Wait, I suppose," Fleur replied. "Maybe we can find some chairs to sit down in."

She looked back to the judges' seats hopefully.

"Maybe we should re-join our dorm-mates?" Harry suggested.

Hermione would be there. She always knew what to do.

"No, no!" Mr. Bagman shouted at that. "You stay here. The winner hasn't been determined, yet."

"But surely Victor is the winner?" Fleur said. "Harry saw him take the cup, didn't he?"

Harry nodded to confirm that even though it wasn't strictly true, but Mr. Bagman shook his head anyway.

"We have no proof that that was a true vision yet. If he really had taken the cup, it should have transported him out here and if it is true and the dark wizards have killed him ..." Mr. Bagman's voice grew softer and more hesitant with every word and finally faded away entirely.

"But we both gave up," Harry pointed out. "So if Victor didn't win, Cedric must have the most points. What happened to Cedric anyway?"

"I don't know," Mr. Bagman admitted. "We found him unconscious on the floor, but there was no sign of an injury. Madam Pomfrey examined him and said he'd been put under the cruciatus curse. The Minister said that Victor must have done it, but if he really has been put under imperius ... Well, whoever did that probably wouldn't shy away from using the cruciatus himself either, would they. And if Victor did it while under the imperius it wasn't really him either."

He looked around nervously.

"So you too think that there is a dark wizard here at this institute?" Fleur asked pulling Harry closer to her protectively. "There are a lot of little children here, Mr. Bagman."

That was true. The first years might have already had their first year exams, but that didn't mean that they could protect themselves if they were attacked. What should they cast if an adult wizard pointed his wand at them to control or torture them? Lumos? Alohomora? Or should they attempt to transfigure his wand into a needle?

"You have to find the dark wizard, Mr. Bagman," Harry declared. "You have to make sure he doesn't hurt any children."

"What me? Why me?" Mr. Bagman stuttered. "I'm no Auror! How would I know anything about catching dark wizards? I can't even tell them from ordinary people."

That had of course been amply proven by his trial.

"You, or the Minister, or that Professor Hagrid, or one of the other adult wizards that stayed behind," Fleur agreed. "You are supposed to protect us."

"Professor Hagrid's no good with a wand," Harry told her. "He only knows about creatures and the forest. He never even took OWLs. And Mr. Filch is a squib. Maybe Madam Pince ... or we could try fetching Madam Pomfey, but she is probably still treating Cedric."

"Doesn't your institute have any competent fighting wizards?" Fleur demanded haughtily.

"Of course it does. Professor Snape and Professor Flitwick and Professor Moody and the headmaster - and I think Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout aren't bad at it either, but they've all gone to save Victor."

As had Madam Maxime, and it appeared that Professor Karkaroff had, too, though Harry hadn't noticed him in the group that had followed the headmaster. He was nowhere to be seen now in any case.

"There were supposed to be Aurors here to deal with security!" Mr. Bagman wailed.

"They went with the headmaster, too," Harry informed him.

"Now, now, Bagman," the Minister said suddenly. "Pull yourself together. There probably is no dark wizard here at all. Little Harry just had a bad dream and Dumbledore has allowed it to alarm him. I suppose as headmaster he must react to every hint of a possible threat to his students. Better to check an empty graveyard unnecessarily than to allow a child to be abducted. And if it is not true there is no danger here that would require the presence of the Aurors."

"But what if it is true!" Mr. Bagman continued to be just as distressed as before.

"Why then ... Then the dark wizard must have gone with Dumbledore. You heard the boy, Bagman. All the competent fighters left. A wizard that can cast the unforgivables with such ease has to be a formidable fighter."

Harry shuddered. Surely it couldn't be one of their teachers. But then who? Headmaster Karkaroff who'd just made an even worse scene than Mr. Bagman? One of the Aurors sent to protect them? Madame Maxime?

But what had Auror Potter been doing here? He was forbidden from entering the institute grounds, so surely the Ministry wouldn't have sent him. But perhaps his fellow Aurors didn't know and he had joined them pretending to be part of their group when he actually had been sent by You-Know-Who to abduct Harry? It made an awful lot of sense.


	35. Chapter 35

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Harry uncovers more than he actually wanted to see or hear.

Chapter 35: Veritaserum

None of the adults seemed to feel any pressing need to look for the Death Eater agent, but now that Harry was almost sure that he had identified him and seen him leave with the headmaster it didn't feel quite as necessary to him anymore either and events confirmed Harry's suspicion even further. Nothing at all unusual happened until the return of the headmaster and his fighting-expedition and hadn't Auror Potter always seemed especially unfriendly? Harry was strongly reminded of the way he'd insulted Professor Snape and scared him and his friends the very first time they'd met. And then, in the Shrieking Shack, he had attacked Professor Snape, tied Harry and Hermione up and manhandled the injured Ron quite brutally. He really should have realised that the man was evil much sooner!

And this man was his father, if what he'd overheard the Minister and some of his Professors talk about in Hogsmeade last year was true? But no, if Harry were a Death Eater's child then why would You-Know-Who have tried to kill him? Obviously the story he had overheard could not have been about him. His headmasters hadn't lied to him after all! James Potter was not his father. His father had died heroically trying to save him and all the other children at the Nursery Institute!

But the story he had overheard had been his. There could be no doubt about that.

Then, finally, as he was watching the fighters make their slow exhausted way towards them and trying to pick out Auror Potter among them, Harry finally realised the obvious. There were of course two James Potters! One was his father and the other the Auror Potter he knew. Or maybe the Auror wasn't even called James at all! Harry seemed to remember his secret uncle Sirius referring to him as 'James', but maybe he'd been mistaken. Maybe when he said James he was talking about Harry's father, who, after all, was his best friend since childhood and his Auror partner was merely the brother, or cousin of that friend.

He'd have to warn Uncle Sirius about his partner, though, Harry thought. Who knew what he might do now that You-Know-Who was back!

The search party quite obviously had been in a fight. Several of them were limping and most had torn or singed robes and they were levitating along two stretchers. Harry couldn't find Auror Potter. Perhaps he had given himself away and fled with the other Death Eaters? Or maybe he was one of the two men supporting limping wizards? Harry couldn't see their faces, because the heads of the injured men were in the way.

"Those of you who are injured head right on to the hospital wing," Professor Dumbledore ordered when he himself stopped next to the group around the Minister. "Where is Igor?"

Nobody knew. Apparently he hadn't been among the fighters after all, neither those who stayed with the headmaster nor those who were heading on towards the castle, leaving the stretchers behind to Harry's surprise.

Shouldn't those who couldn't even walk receive medical attention first? Surely they needed it the most!

Maybe it was because Professor Dumbledore had forgotten to tell the ones levitating them to go to the hospital wing as well? They were probably uninjured so they had to stay.

Harry decided to make himself useful by taking care of that. Surely a levitating stretcher could be pushed where one wanted it to go? If not, maybe Wingardium Leviosa would work, but he'd try simply pushing first.

He stepped up to the first stretcher. There was a shape covered by a black cloak on it. Even its head was covered, which Harry wasn't sure was a good idea. Didn't it hinder the injured wizard's breathing? Oh well, Madame Pomfrey would be sure to know. Harry took hold of the end of the stretcher and gave it a good strong push.

"Don't!" the sharp voice of Professor Snape barked and he felt a sudden rough grip on his upper arms pulling him backwards. "Leave that alone, you foolish boy!"

But it was too late. The stretcher jerked violently, its end bobbing up and down a few times, and the cloak slid off the head of the person lying there with wide-open, staring eyes.

"Victor," Harry recognised the face right away. "Why did you cover him up? He needs to breathe. And he needs Madam Pomfrey. I'll take him to her."

"No, you fool, he does not," Professor Snape snapped letting go of Harry with one hand to pull the cloak back into place. "Now be silent."

"But," Harry started to protest.

Why was nobody helping Victor? It looked so horrible how he lay there all stiff and unmoving. He must have been hit with some version of the full body bind, Harry decided, except that that could be reversed with a simple spell and he'd never seen it affect somebody's eyes as well. Victor's eyes had been unmoving as well. Apparently he wasn't even able to blink.

Maybe that was why they had covered his face? Maybe the sunlight would hurt his eyes while he wasn't able to blink!

Harry reached out for the stretcher again, but another hand caught him, this time by the wrist.

"Victor here might have no use for Madam Pomfrey's services, but I think Harry would feel much better after a nice dose of calming draught," Professor Moody's voice announced. "Come along, boy. You'll hear all you need to know about the battle soon enough."

Obediently Harry followed Professor Moody, but the adult didn't take him to the hospital wing after all. Instead they went to his office where he gave Harry the promised potion.

"You did see truly even if you failed to win and fulfil your rightful destiny in our Lord's plan," he told Harry then. "Oh yes, he is back and I was the tool to restore our master even if I failed to bring you to him. I gave him Victor instead and now I will kill you for him. That will make up for my mistake ..."

With ever increasing horror Harry listened to Professor Moody's confession of how he had put Harry's name into the goblet of fire and manipulated the tournament so he should win and be taken to that graveyard so He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named could use his blood in the ritual that would revive him. That part of the plan had failed, but they had used Victor's blood instead and it had worked just as well.

Victor was dead, killed by the Dark Lord, and so was one of the Death Eaters, a man called Crabbe that had gotten between the headmaster and You-Know-Who by accident. The rest had escaped, though and apparently Crabbe was no big loss to the Death Eaters. He had been disloyal and stupid.

"But not nearly as bad as Igor Karkaroff," Professor Moody said. "That stinking coward has fled, but we will track him down. He will be the next to die after you."

But just then the door exploded and Professors Dumbledore, Snape and McGonagall rushed in to rescue Harry.

To Harry's surprise Professor Dumbledore only tied Professor Moody up and then went straight on to his trunk which he opened seven times. Each time it contained something else, the last a horrible prison cell in which they found the stunned Professor Moody.

But Professor Moody was also still outside the trunk, tied up and unable to move.

"How is that possible?" Harry asked looking from one Moody to the other.

"Polyjuice potion," the headmaster said simply.

Then he surprised Harry once again and instead of taking the real Professor Moody to the hospital wing just put a cloak over him and started interrogating the false Moody under Veritaserum. Remembering Victor Harry began to worry whether the real Moody was dead, too.

Soon the effect of the polyjuice wore off and the impostor turned into a man Harry had never seen before. Professor Dumbledore seemed to recognise him, though and then Professor McGonagall arrived with Winky the house-elf who identified him as Barty Crouch junior, the son of Mr. Crouch.

For a while Harry found the interrogation rather exciting. The way Mr. and Mrs Crouch had broken their son out of Azkaban and Mr. Crouch had then hidden him sounded like a truly great adventure, but then Barty Crouch told them how he had murdered his farther right after Harry had fetched Professor Dumbledore to help the poor man and Harry suddenly remembered Victor and the real Professor Moody in the trunk and began to feel awfully sick. He didn't want to hear any more after that.


	36. Chapter 36

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: A scolding helps Harry realise that he has done something terribly wrong.

Chapter 36: The Parting of the Ways

The headmaster seemed to notice how horrible Harry was feeling at the end of the interrogation and kindly took him to his office to question him on all the details of his vision.

Harry considered asking him about the details of the battle afterwards, but he didn't think he could stomach the tale. He already knew that two people had died and he still feared that he'd be sick if he thought about the description of Mr. Crouch's death too much.

Once again the headmaster appeared to notice his distress, though, and took him to the hospital wing for a sleeping drought and a good night's rest.

As it turned out however he didn't need the potion. He fell asleep the moment his head touched the pillow.

Maybe they should have made him drink it after all, though, for he soon woke up again when an argument broke out just outside the door. At first Harry couldn't make out anything more than that a man and a woman were shouting at each other, but then the door opened and they rushed into the room.

It was Minister Fudge and Professor McGonagall! And they were not alone. Professor Snape arrived with them, more quiet, but looking angry as well, and not the sort of angry that Harry was familiar with from when someone melted a cauldron in class. No, this was the sort of angry he'd been when the Aurors had broken Ron's leg last year.

"You promised not to bring another dementor into the institute last year!" Professor McGonagall shouted. "And now look what happened!"

"It was for my protection and it has served its purpose admirably," the minister returned. "It's not like Crouch didn't deserve it. An escaped criminal and insane murderer! Why, just think what the monster could have done to the children if he had gotten loose."

"Exactly which of the monsters are you referring to, Minister?" Professor Snape interjected coldly and softly.

"Minerva, Minister, please!" Madam Pomfrey entered the scene at a run. "My patients need their rest. Cedric is right over behind that screen recovering from being tortured and ... well, Harry here was peacefully asleep when I last checked up on him."

Harry shrugged apologetically to indicate that he really hadn't meant to be disobedient.

"We didn't do it," came a familiar voice from the other side of his bed and Harry realised that Ron and Hermione had been sitting by his bedside.

"We were all nice and quiet, like you told us to," Ron continued. "But then they barged in shouting. Of course that woke Harry up."

"Why you disrespectful little brat," the Minister started, but just then the headmaster appeared and he was distracted by having to confess that his dementor had kissed Barty Crouch junior and thus rendered him unable to stand trial or be questioned by the Aurors.

Harry didn't think that that was a big loss to the world, but he was quite shocked to hear that the Minister also still didn't believe that You-Know-Who had returned.

Even when Professor Snape showed him the tattooed Dark Mark on his arm and explained that it had burned after Victor's abduction Minister Fudge still insisted that the Professors and Harry were just trying to start a panic among his voters.

"You think you're so special!" he scolded Harry. "You think everybody must adore you because of that ugly scar on your forehead. And of course you always must put yourself forward to show off how special you are. Participating in the tournament even though it is against the rules! Telling tall tales, pretending to have visions. Never for a moment thinking about what you're doing to others. Well, let me tell you something you selfish little brat. You are a child, nothing but a child! You're not old or wise or talented enough for anyone to give a damn about you. You are just as worthless and insignificant as all the other little brats in this institute. You are nothing and should be grateful to the Ministry that kindly provides food and shelter for you and even pays valuable adult wizards to mind and provide for you useless creatures rather than be useful themselves. You should be nice and meek as is seemly for a child. And most of all you are not in any way special and never will be. Children aren't special. Nobody cares about you and your stupid tales and it is past time that you got over yourself and your delusions of grandeur and stopped putting yourself before all the others here. Just look at yourself: What a weakly, ugly little whelp. How dare you be so unfair to your peers to think that you are more special than them?"

"Really, Cornelius, I don't think Harry considers himself any better than other children," the headmaster interjected when he saw Harry hang his head in shame.

This did draw the Minister's attention away from Harry, but only by making the headmaster himself the new target for his rage - and that for Harry's sake! It made the boy feel even more guilty.

Of course Harry was fully aware that blaming him for participating in the tournament was unjust. It had been Barty Crouch that had entered him and left him no choice. And he also didn't regret having told the truth about his vision. There might have been a chance to save Victor's life after all. Harry hadn't known that he'd be dead by the time the search party found him. But the Minister had hit on the truth in one essential aspect: Harry had thought that he was special and delighted in that! Not because of his scar or to all the world, of course, but he had thought he was special to his secret uncle Sirius. He had even delighted in the thought so much that he used it as his happy memory to conjure his patronus.

Hadn't that indeed been horribly selfish and arrogant? How had he ever dared? How could he have had such horrible feelings? How terribly mean to his friends and other institute mates had he been without even realising it!

He hardly noticed the Minister's angry departure or the headmaster's orders to his staff. Only when there was a sudden slamming sound from the window did he jerk out of his miserable thoughts to stare at Hermione in surprise.

"Sorry," the girl said. "There was a beetle. I caught it. For research for my Potions essay," she added towards Madam Pomfrey.


	37. Chapter 37

Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: What is worse to break the rules or to be rude to an adult? Harry needs to figure it out and he can't even ask a teacher for help!

Chapter 37: The Beginning

Harry spent another day in the hospital wing and then returned to Gryffindor tower and his friends. The exam days were still continuing, but that of his year was over and so they had all day to talk and play ... and think.

Harry's secret uncle Sirius had written again right after the third task and its horrible end, but Harry had merely pocketed the letter. He didn't know whether he should read it and reply like he usually did or not. Of course a worthy Auror like Sirius Black didn't deserve to be ignored. That was a very bad thing to do, but so was having contact with a secret relative when you weren't even old enough to have relatives.

What was worse, to be rude to an adult who had been very kind to you or to do something that made you feel special? Could he read the letter and reply to it without falling into that trap again?

"Well, at the very least he deserves to know why you've stopped writing," Draco told him when he finally confessed his problem to his friends. "You must replay at least this one more time to explain."

"It'd be cruel not to," Hermione agreed. "He must be so worried after what happened. Do write him today."

"I don't see why you shouldn't feel a little bit special anyway," Ron said. "I mean, whom are you hurting? We don't mind and the others don't even know you have a secret uncle so they are not going to feel bad about it."

"We'll be sixteen soon anyway," Gregory said. "So you just have a relative a little bit early."

"It's not that," Harry said, but he didn't dare to admit to feeling so good about being special that he could conjure a patronus from it.

"I think you're right about replying," he said instead to change the topic. "But I'm still not sure whether just once or to keep it up even though I shouldn't. If it is the last time I should explain. If not maybe I shouldn't even mention it."

"Or maybe you should ask your uncle Sirius' opinion on it," Hermione said. "If one doesn't know what is the right thing to do, one should ask an adult and since you'd have to admit to breaking the rules if you ask any other adult Auror Black is the one to ask in this situation."

And so that evening Harry sat down and wrote a very long letter that was all about his guilt over feeling special and didn't contain one word about the third task or You-Know-Who or any of the things that his uncle Sirius had asked him in his letter. He hadn't even remembered to mention Auror Potter's suspicious presence at the task.

Unfortunately Harry only realised that deficiency after he'd sent Hedwig off with the finished letter, so it was too late to fix it. He'd have to write at least one more letter to uncle Sirius after all, no matter what the Auror recommended that he should do.


End file.
